The Lost Archangel
by Assan-Mahariel
Summary: Gabriel wakes up in an alley with fake memories instead of his actual memories. Homeless and alone, Gabriel finds himself swept up on the adventures of two Hunters. Rated T for language and violence and implications. Slow burn Destiel, slow burn Apriel
1. Chapter 1

(I don't own this series)

It didn't take long for me to realize things sometimes exploded when I got angry ever since I woke up in an alley an hour ago in a man's body. I hadn't managed to get a good look at my reflection yet, but I wasn't too much taller thanI used to be and I was pretty certain I was a dude; I was confused and lost, a quick google search in a local library revealing that none of my accounts were existent, which meant all my works were gone. The friends I emailed knew nothing of anybody that went by my name and nobody lived in my house.

The people in the library hadn't taken too kindly to a ramshackle man in ripped up clothing who looked like he had just fell off a tree and landed in a thorn bush, the glares burned into me and so I left.

I felt like I was in a daze, only coming out of it when I saw a guy throwing rocks over a fence, grinning every time his efforts were rewarded with a pained yelp. Rage exploded within me and the tires of a passing car popped, sending the car skidding off the road and slamming into the guy, stoppping just short of hitting the fence. Shocked, I continued on quickly before I could be noticed. Experimentally, I tapped into that same feeling as I stared intently at a rock. It exploded.

Angry = explosions.

Worried and feeling guilty, I hurried on my way, glancing around to see if anybody had saw me.

Somebody passed by me as I walked down the sidewalk, an uncomfortable feeling spreading through me as they did so. I glanced over my shoulder, heart sinking with fear as I saw golden feathers. A further examination revealed that I had three large golden wings; nobody else had anything like it but they didn't seem to notice, but I still felt afraid that a big black van would roll up with Feds to kidnap me and take me off to some lab.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I went through my pockets, relieved to find a wallet. It had a bit of money in it that might help me with this problem, but I didn't find any ID.

I could see a Salvation Army ahead and made my way towards it, putting the wallet in a front pocket. This was the only money I had so I was going to take zero chances of having it stolen.

Weird looks was the only welcome I got when I walked in and anxiety ate away at me; I wanted nothing more than to leave and hide under a rock, feeling especially scared about my wings.

I made my way to the clothes, ignoring the fact that they were watching me carefully to make sure I wasn't shoplifting.

I grabbed a couple of belts and a large white black trenchcoat and made my way to the checkout. The person behind the counter seemed unimpressed as I made my purchase; I had chosen the darker colored trench coat since I would probably be wearing it a lot. I left and hid out in an alley; it hurt to bind my wings and at first the belts went right through them. It took concentration, but once I had them tangible they stayed tangible, for the belts at least. They quickly began to hurt, but I grit my teeth and pulled on the trench coat. They trailed out from beneath, the tips of golden feathers on the primaries peeking out already beginning to get dirty from the ground. The way I had bound them made it so I didn't look hunch backed, but I think it worsened the pain.

I'll get used to it.

Next problem was food, where would I get that? And sleep? And work, since I would be needing more money. I could probably just use gas station restrooms or keep clean in the changing rooms of public pools if I could find one. A big enough box with more boxes wouldn't be awesome but would work as a bed. Get hand me down clothes from one of those good will donation things like the one behind the dollar store at home.

I'm gonna be okay.

"You're gonna be okay," I whispered the pep talk to myself.

That done, I buttoned up the trenchcoat and exited the alleyway; I still had time before it got dark and I would look suspicious.. well, more suspicious than a raggedy man in a trench coat can look, I guess.

* * *

By dark I had found a box. It was big enough to sit in and if I curled up with my wings sticking out I could practically fit. It felt wonderful to have them unbound and if I had them sticking out of the box tangibly instead of having them being intangible through the side of the box it kept me warm. The belts dug into my side, but I was kind of scared somebody might take them if I left them outside the box. Of course, I was also scared of somebody sneaking up on me and mugging me or worse, so I didn't feel too tired. I still managed to fall asleep though, which I was happy about I guess.

I slept restlessly, but I wasn't as sore as I figured I would be from sleeping in a box. My wings ached, probably from being bound most of yesterday, so I dread to think how they're going to feel after they will have been bound all of today. Once they were bound and under my coat, I was off, leaving my box behind.

Despite crippling anxiety and social awkwardness coupled with an alarmingly small amount of self confidence, I found it in me to go into every store and diner I passed, asking if they required any help.

Every single one of them turned me away, though I didn't blame them.

I was just about ready to give up and jump off a cliff by the time I reached a place eight miles from my starting point, a dark looking place called Bottom Up. There didn't seem to be too many customers in the bar and I was really sure I didn't want to have anything to do with it, but I was beyond desperate and so I walked right up to the bar and asked.

The bartender gave me a weird look and it irritated me that he was looking down his nose at me, but I merely gave my best puppy eyes.

"When can you work?" he finally asked, taking in my attire and how desperate I seemed.

"Now, if you want, whenever you need me," I promised, since there wasn't really anything I could currently do with free time.

"Name?"

Uh-oh. Maybe I can make something up? My mind instantly went to a fictional character, but that wouldn't work since it might sound suspicious if he knew them. Maybe use a name from one of my books or make one up? What? Gotta answer fast, first thing in mind-

"Jarvis Stark," I said, giving a warm smile.

He nodded, so I guess this was acceptable.

And just like that I had a job.

* * *

In the month I've been working here I have quickly learned that this was not a friendly working environment. The few coworkers I had were complete jerks with big egos, fueling it by picking on the homeless person in their midst as if just because I didn't have a house and a car and all that I was less human than they were. So what if I lived in a box, did that make me less human than them? Though they quickly figured that to be hilarious when they found that out after following me one day. I was swiftly given the nickname Butler over my split-second name choice.

None were as cruel as the owner's son, who always seemed to take things a step further; nobody was going to speak against him and risk losing their job, though, so I had to deal with it. While the others never went further than calling me Butler, Walter seemed to have decided I was easy pickings. He didn't work here himself, but that didn't stop him from throwing back a couple beers and setting to work making sure my day was horrible. He was pretty weird, since he had tattooed his eyes or gotten some sort of weird contacts that made his eyes completely black, but nobody ever commented so I didn't either.

"Heya, shortie," Walter giggled, (yes, a full grown man and he giggled) whacking me in the back of the head as he walked into the bar.

I narrowed my eyes and the table I was cleaning creaked as the force with which I was cleaning it with increased. I grit my teeth, forcing down the anger since I knew that I would have to clean up anything that explodes or breaks.

I finished cleaning the table, satisfied with it. My wings still ached from being bound most of the time, but I have since realized nobody else seems to see them. I don't know how to use them, which stinks since I have always wanted to fly, but I still used the belts to keep them out of the way. The feathers were all out of order, but I didn't know how to fix that so I let it be even though it was uncomfortable. My trench coat had increasingly come in handy now that winter is setting in, and it was hidden so that it couldn't be taken. Here I have to wear my work clothes, a black t-shirt and black pants with a belt like thing that contained straws and utensils around my waist. It was kind of nice being a dude, since I didn't have to worry about waking up to a cardboard Japanese flag and I didn't get harassed by guys as much as I've seen female workers get. I always tried to stop that when I see it happening, though usually the harrasser's shot glass or cup explodes; sometimes it's a girl harassing a guy, too, or sometimes a girl harassing a girl or a boy harassing a boy. I wish everybody could just... you know, not be creeps?

I was glad that I had gotten through much of my day without running into Walter, which labeled this as a good day in my book.

Turns out he meant to make up for lost time.

"Oops," he grinned as he spilled a shot onto the table I had just cleaned, "oh no, guess you have to clean it again, Butler."

"Why don't you just leave him alone?"

I was so surprised that I looked over at the speaker and Walter did too; George was a regular, a trucker who stopped by in time for last call every time he came through town and he didn't cower from Walter's pitch black glare.

"Butler doesn't mind, do you, Butler?" Walter beamed, clapping me on the back. His hand went right through my wings, making me shiver uncomfortably.

It also didn't help that I was afraid of him; if Walter ever tried anything, like beating me up, I wouldn't be able to stop him. The law would probably take his side, I would be jailed or they would find out there's something different with me and send me off to be dissected or something; my gut coiled at the idea of them figuring out I wasn't even in the system as well as being homeless.

Nobody had spoken up for me before, probably cause I tended not to say much. I cannot even begin to explain how strange it is to hear somebody else's voice come out when you speak and I don't think I'll ever get used to it.

"I'm pretty sure he has a name," George frowned before the sixty five year old turned a warmer version of his gaze on me, "you got a name, kid?"

"Jarvis," I said quietly, averting my gaze.

"That's a good name," he nodded, "a real good one for a good man, so you leave him alone, Walter. What has he ever done to you?"

"I bet he doesn't even pay taxes," Walter said sharply, "he's homeless and I bet he never even went to school. Not to mention he's practically mute, so I don't know why you care about some bum!"

Bum? Ouch.

"It's okay," I said, setting back to work on the table, "I can clean it again. I don't mind."

"No," George said, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the table, "he made the mess, he can clean it up. Your shift is over anyways, isn't it, Jarvis? You should head off now," he shoved fifty bucks into my hand, "it's cold out there, kid, so you make sure you got some warm clothes and a blanket, alright?"

"I don't need it, really," I said, feeling moved to tears over his kindness.

"I don't need it as much as you do," he insisted.

My hand curled around the fifty dollar bill and I gave him a small smile, "I... I don't know what to say... thank you, sir, it's been a long time since anyone's been so kind to me."

I never saw him again except in the paper.

I think Walter had something to do with it.

I should have insisted on cleaning that table; if I hadn't left, then maybe George would still be around. He showed me such kindness...

* * *

Winter was long and harsh, but thanks to George's kindness I had warm clothes to get me through. I continued to keep my wings unbound only at night, enclosing myself in the three of them to make me warmer. Food tasted weird but I could taste sugary things, like candy, so most of my diet consisted of sugar. Coolest part was that I didn't seem to gain any weight from this diet, which meant I ate even more of it. I missed other foods, but at least I had sweets and junk food.

I don't think I've ever been happier when winter completed its transition into spring and took away with it all the smush and brought along warmer weather. I no longer had to depend on a soggy box and could more easily get to the pool to shower in the changing rooms without landing flat on my rear on ice every couple steps.

People kept on disappearing, which made me a little scared for not only myself but other people. Mostly other people because they couldn't make things explode.

I have even gotten myself a bank account, which was a horrible process indeed, saving up my money. The rest I wasted mostly on junk food; I think my sweet tooth had only gotten worse when I had woken up in this body, but being that it was the only thing I could technically taste I savored every single piece in case I woke up one day and couldn't taste that either.

I found that I really liked this body's hair, since it stayed in a certain hairstyle. At first I had thought maybe it was hair gel in it, but it seemed that it was naturally that way or maybe the same power that made things explode kept it that way. I looked a lot like Richard Spreight jr., which was cool, though nobody ever commented on it.

Yep, things were looking up for little, old me.


	2. Chapter 2

(I don't own this series)

"Hey, Butler, you missed a spot," Walter smirked smugly, spilling a drink on a table I had just moved on from.

Hardy, har, har, because that never gets old.

I took a deep breath; now that all my money had been stolen and I was back at square one, I wasn't in the best mood today so it was even harder for me to keep my temper down. Think of home, Jarvis, think of home.

Great, now I'm smad.

"Well?" he didn't even glance over at the door as it opened, meaning customers, "get to cleaning it, Butler."

I swear, one of these days I'm going to stick the pool table poles so far down his throat he's going to have to get splinters taken out of his feet. The lights flickered slightly and I took another deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay. Let's get to cleaning it.

I moved to the table and set to work, hardly glancing up as two women walked in in suits. They were roughly the same height and both had the hard eyes of a hunter, as if they were tigresses walking in on a room of sheep.

"Agent Barton," the first one flashed a grin alongside her badge, "and this is Agent Romanoff."

The brunette flashed her badge at the introduction.

Marvel character names? Cool, I wish I had a Black Widow to my Hawkeye.

Barton had a darker shade of brown than her partner, almost black.

"Looks like somebody's finally here to take your homeless ass away, Butler," Walter grinned, hopping off the table and heading off to go bother somebody else.

"Butler?" Romanoff raised an eyebrow.

"Jarvis," I corrected, holding out my hand, which they shook, "I'm guessing you're here about the murders?"

Barton nodded, "they all share a common connection; this was the last place any of them were seen alive."

"You should talk to Walter," I said, "I think he has something to do with it."

"Walter?"

"Yeah, that guy that was just in here? Not hard to miss with those black eyes of his."

"Black eyes?"

Whoa, intensity over nine thousand! I felt like squirming under the gaze and I think that might have been exactly what I did, "yeah, I don't know if he tattooed them or something, but his eyes are completely black. He's the owner's jerk son, but don't tell anybody I called him a jerk, cause he bothers me enough."

"Anything else odd about him?" Barton asked.

"Uh, I don't think so," I shrugged, "I'm not too great at on the spot thinking. If I remember anything, I'll tell you."

They nodded and Romanoff split off while Barton stayed to question me, "so, Jarvis, does he have black eyes all the time?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Mr... what's your last name?"

What had I used for my last name? Something Marvel, I think, "Stark."

Amusement flickered in her eyes, "Jarvis a Stark?"

"My father, Howard, was a Marvel fan," I lied. Lying, there was something I could do on the spot.

"I see, and your mother, was her name Maria?"

"Yes, actually," I answered, realizing my lies hadn't fooled her.

"So, Jarvis," she said, putting emphasis on Jarvis, "what's your real name?"

"Not sure."

"Not sure? How are you not sure?"

"Amnesia," I said, which was practically believable.

"So how did an amnesiac end up working in a bar?"

"I got hungry," I shrugged and was about to say more when I got interrupted by a pained scream.

"Looks like he reacted to the holy water," Barton beamed.

"Holy water?" I stared at her in shock.

"Listen, since there's nobody else here can you shift that sign to closed? Just trust me."

I stared at her, this fed lady who I haven't known for all of five minutes but who was asking for me to trust her. Walter was the only one currently here, since I was covering the bartender's morning shift, so why not? I nodded and moved, switching the sign to closed as Barton started drawing on the floor with a piece of chalk; the chalk sketch looked like one of those demon traps in Supernatural.

Supernatural. Wait a min-

"You guys have any salt?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," the trap was in my way so I simply stepped over it and made my way to the bar. I simply leaped over it and found what I needed, handing over a huge container of the stuff to the fed.

"Thanks, we were running low," she grinned, "are you a Hunter?"

"A what?"

"No, of course not, let me see your arm?"

"Uh, okay," I said, holding my arm out to her, "but I don't see why- ow!"

The cry was more one of surprise than pain as blood welled up from where her knife had ran across it. It didn't hurt, strangely, and was soon healing right before our eyes.

"Interesting," she said, her eyes narrowing before she held out a canteen, "drink."

I nodded, not wanting to tick her off, and took a swig of it; it had a sweet taste that seemed to take the edge off the ache in my wings, "refreshing. What is this about?"

"And you say you don't remember who you are?" she asked me.

I shook my head. Because I didn't know who I was, technically, or at least not who this body was, though it had grown to feel like its as well be as familiar as mine since I've had it for so long.

It was about this time that Romanoff came back with Walter, the latter of he two tied to a chair, and put him in the center of the trap.

"He's a demon," Romanoff explained, which only filled me with shock, "I saw his eyes flicker to black, so Jarvis wasn't wrong."

"What color are his eyes right now, Jarvis?" Barton asked me.

"B-black," I said honestly, "what do you mean by he's a demon?"

"I want to test something I heard once," Barton said, nudging me towards the demon, "smite him."

"Excuse me?" I taped at her.

"Let me see if you can do it, smite him."

"I can't smite people, I'm just some guy!" I argued, horrified by the idea.

Her hand reached towards something sharp looking hidden under her suit, "there's always another way to test my theory, of course, but I doubt you would live through it I'm right and if I'm wrong, but if I'm right, this floor is gonna have a cool new design."

"Alright," I finally agreed, stepping forward and putting my hand on my tormentor's face, covering his eyes. Something shifted within me as if I've done this before. Before I could call upon that, he threw his head back, a thick black smoke billowing from his mouth; without even a moment of hesitation to think, I put my palm against the smoke and shoved it back into him, placing my palm back against his forehead. He screamed and everything snapped back into place as I leaped back away from his smoking body, horrified at what I had just done.

Barton held her hand up towards her partner for a high five, "would you look at that, little sister, we've got ourselves an angel."

* * *

Their names weren't actually Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton and they weren't Feds. They were something they called Hunters (yes, Jarvis, like that book series and no there isn't any such thing as a show called Supernatural. No, Jarvis, Hunters didn't originate from Artemis' Hunters. Yes, we are sure.) and Walter hadn't tattooed his eyeballs. He was a demon.

A demon.

(Yes, Jarvis, we know who Sam and Dean Winchester are, they're famous in the Hunter community. No, Jarvis, we don't know where they are.)

It also turned out that apparently I was an angel and, after further questioning, I was an archangel, which they seemed extra excited about. From there they had done an in depth search of google to figure out which one I was, though I had a sneaking suspicion I knew which one.

Also, they were planning on taking me with them, every little Supernatural fans' dream, right? Uh, no, let me go home to my box, I had a sweet gig going for me.

Fortunately, unlike the Winchesters, they were not wanted by the law but, like the Winchesters, they had grown up in this life as the past three generations of their family had been Hunters, and they were sisters.

Cassandra and Sera Maple; Cassandra was the oldest and had been the one with darker hair, while Sera was the youngest and had the lighter hair. They both had blue eyes but Sera's seemed more impish than Cassandra's.

Cassandra didn't seem to mind that I called her Cas, since Sera called her that too. Like the Winchesters, they were basically nomadic, renting motels. They didn't have an impala but they had a charger like the one in Burn Notice and I was pleased to learn that they actually did have Burn Notice. I was pretty happy to have my own Cas, even though she was mortal.

Wow, I'm immortal.

An immortal who still sleeps on the ground, since the room only had two beds.

"So what are your wings like?" Sera asked me as I stuffed my face with the chips they had gotten me.

"I keep them tied down," I said, stuffing a handful in my mouth.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

I nodded.

"Then you should untie them."

"They're fine," I said, gaze moving to watch Sera as she looked through her bag. Finally, she gave a shout of success and brought out what looked like a strange camera, "what's that for?" I asked as she turned it on and pointed it at me.

"Video log," Cassandra spoke, sounding unimpressed, "she's decided she's going to be a director or whatever."

"It's like a Hunter blog," Sera corrected, "and if I can see ghosts trough this thing, maybe I can see your wings, so untie them and let me see those babies!"

"My wings are an absolute mess, as am I," I said, hiding my face behind the bag of chips.

"Awww, our little angel is camera shy," Sera cooed.

"Fine," I said, letting my wings go intangible and through the belts. They snapped open, a sense of relief flooding them along with pain as I stretched them out, making me cringe. The room was too small to stretch them out completely and the walls shook as my six wings hit them.

"Wow," Sera grinned, looking through the camera, "I think I just made Hunter history."

"It worked?" Cassandra and I stared at her, shocked, though I think I was the most shocked perso- er, being, in the room. I couldn't think of any reason for how it was possibly working.

"They are a mess though," Sera said, frowning, "are they supposed to look like that?"

"No," I said, feeling self-conscious, tightly pulling in my wings, "I don't know what to do with them."

"Clean them maybe?" Cas spoke up, though her eyes gave away her awe as she glanced through the camera, "birds preen, why don't you?"

"Preen?" I frowned at her, angry that I hadn't thought of that, "you expect me to preen my feathers like some bird!?... yeah, okay, I'm gonna do that, but chips first," and with that I shoved about ten chips in my mouth.

"Our angel is a hog," Cas said, sounding disappointed.

"Do something cool," Sera said, still pointing the camera at me.

"Despite you being able to see my six wings through your little gadget?" I raised an eyebrow, "I can't do anything else."

"Make something explode!"

"No, don't make something explode!" Cas yelled at her sister.

"Fine, fly!"

"I can't fly," I said, throwing a chip up in the air and catching it in my mouth when it came back down.

"Our angel is boring," Sera groaned, which made me cast her a glare; did she not just see me awesomely catch that chip?

"We'll teach you to fly then, maybe it will come back to you," Cas said.

How exactly did two wingless things expect to teach a winged thing to fly?

* * *

By jumping off of things, of course, how silly of me to think otherwise.

"Wave to the camera!" Sera shouted as I stood on the roof of the charger.

I stared out into the field that surrounded two side of the dirt road we were on, my newly preened wings gleaming in the sun like a majestic bird; they could only see them through the camera and I was pretty sure that the second I attempt to fly I would turn as invisible as my wings.

"Please, no," I said miserably, reaching up to move the helmet Cas was making me wear out of my eyes, "can I not?"

"Don't scratch my car," Cas said helpfully.

I never thought I would miss my box and working at the bar, feet planted on the ground, away from these crazy ladies expecting me to jump off a car and somehow have enough take off from that to fly. My voice was becoming familiar to me, something I didn't like, and I definitely didn't want to make a fool out of myself in front of two people I barely knew. My wings flapped at the air as I tested them out, relieved to finally have room to stretch out.

I've always yearned to fly and a large part of me wanted to leap up and soar, but that pesky little voice of anxiety ate away at me, telling me I was going to fail and become the laughingstock of wherever those videos Sera takes gets viewed. She doesn't put them on YouTube, does she? Do they have YouTube? Or is it, like, some sort of thing like Twitter or Tumblr for Hunters? She seemed to only show them to Cas as well as watch them herself, so maybe she didn't post them anywhere.

Doesn't make me fear failure any less.

"I can't do it," I decided, instinctively wrapping my wings around me. Because I had so many, they hid me as far as I knew since all I saw was my protective wall of feathers, though they could probably still see me unless it simply made me disappear.

"Stand up and jump off the car."

I pulled my wings in closer, hiding behind them, "can you still see me?"

"Yes, now jump."

I sighed in defeat, standing up and spreading my wings, flapping again. Would they get in each other's way if I tried to fly? How do I do this? "Can you, uh, not tape it?"

"I want to remember this forever," Sera disagreed, "I'll give you pie."

I perked up at that; it wouldn't hurt to try. I fucking love pie.

"Maybe I should start from the ground," I said thoughtfully, "get momentum or something."

Were my wings weak from disuse?

I mumbled a swift prayer, did the sign of the cross even though I wasn't catholic though I had been raised as one, and my Christian ass got ready to fly.

I flapped my wings and jumped.

First time my wings went too low, running into the ground and flipping me, making me land flat on my back with a groan of disappointment and pain.

"What happened?" Cas asked, "one second he was jumping, next he was on his back."

"Dumbass ran into the ground," Sera said, sounding as if she was more disappointed in me than I was in myself, but then her voice took on the tone of one who was incredibly happy, "and I got it on video! Do it again!"

Cursing under my breath, I clambered back onto the car. Somebody once taught me to live my life in spite, and now the sky and I had bad history.

"You're trying again?" Cassandra sounded honestly surprised.

I fumed, all the anger I've been bottling up all this time exploded out of me, my wings flaring before I leaped, spreading my wings wide to catch an updraft or anything that could help me. This time, the second time, I landed on my face much to their amusement.

Third time is the charm and so I decided to take a running start.

I got somewhere this time, my wings snapping out and what was left of their muscle memory carrying me up. I didn't get very happy high before I lost it, tumbling into a patch of grass.

Fourth time I decided, 'hey, why not try how they seemed to do it in Supernatural?' I mean, how hard could it be? Hard, it turned out, and I proved not to have enough experience to take off from just standing.

I climbed a tree out of sheer desperation the fifth time, leaping off from the top. I caught something, spiraling lazily up, shaking back and forth as I kept on whatever I had found; I was smiling like a fool, the idea that my life-long dream of flying had been accomplished as I soared higher and higher. I lost it, swerving sloppily like a buzzard as I returned to it, circling to stay on it. I didn't even need to flap my wings, just held them out in a glide.

Are my bones hollow like a bird's? Or did I have regular bones since this was most probably a vessel? Which leads to more questions, of course, how does one leave a vessel? I quite liked this one, though, so I hoped I could keep it.

Here was something worth staying for; what human, fellow human of course, could boast of seeing or feeling such a thing as this?

I laughed from pure delight, something I've never been able to do really.

Below, Cas glanced around for me, expecting me to appear in a crash at any moment, while Sera kept having to move her camera around, losing me sometimes and having to look all over again.

I could see for miles up here, mostly trees because of our location, and I went higher and higher; I wonder if I could reach heaven from here-

Not allowed there, not anymore.

The thought surprised me.

I stared up at the sky, not as happy as I was just a second ago even though I was still ecstatic over flying.

I flapped my wings, leaving the thermal and gliding down towards the ground. I practiced some flying on the way down, trying to decide on how to land and kind of scared at the idea of it.

I finally did land, though, a wonderful face full of dirt cushioning my face plant crashland. At least Sera didn't get that part on video.


	3. Chapter 3

(I don't own this series yet.)

Being an Archangel, I had no need for toilets aside from flushing fish. The original Gabriel probably could have simply snapped his fingers and bam! Clean, ready to go, candy in hand without having to go to a store and buy it, maybe whip up some magical money or something; I had nobody but myself to learn from, and so I had no idea how to even begin trying to do any of that.

Which meant I had to stay clean the hard way.

The pool showers I had used were large, faucets on walls in an empty room; I had always gone every day when it wasn't busy so I could stretch my wings out to stay out of my way since even when closed they took up space I wasn't used to having being taken up. During winter or on days it was closed, I would walk into the nearby gym like I had a membership or something and I would use their showers.

This motel shower was as tiny as the motel bathroom.

"What are you even doing in there!" Cas yelled at me, pounding on the door as my wings ran into something every time I moved; my wingspan might come in handy for flying, but it was little help in this situation, all six of them crammed by the enclosed walls. I used to love small spaces, but this was giving even me a sense of claustrophobia.

"Oh no," I breathed as I heard a crash behind me as the top left wing hit something; I pulled my wings in tighter, but they still hit the curtain rod when I turned around, knocking the thing down with a crash, taking the curtains with it, "ow! Ah, come on!"

"Gabriel!"

"Hold on, I'm almost done, just have to rinse out the conditioner!" I yelled, slipping and falling with a loud thud, "ow! Owowowow!"

"GABRIEL!"

My wings were heavy, doused with the water from the shower, "give me a minute!"

"GABRIEL J. STARK!"

I turned the shower off, satisfied that I was clean now, and stepped out, wrapping two of the pairs around myself like some sort of divine towel. I had to pick up my actual towel from the ground, making a towel hat on my head. It was weird that I didn't have long enough hair to twist it into place but I made due and grabbed a second towel to dry myself off. It was a sunny day, as far as I was aware, so I think I'll just go and hold my wings out to dry.

I've been getting better at holding them against my back naturally, the way they're supposed to be, since the Hunters confiscated my belts that I used to bind them; I was not getting better at keeping them out of my way. If there's something they can knock over, they will.

After shimmying into a pair of shorts and a short sleeved shirt that had a cross on it (very funny, Sera, but thanks for the shirt anyways) I opened the door to a very angry face.

"You're soaked. The bathroom's soaked," she glanced over my shoulder at the bathroom, "looks like a tornado blew through there."

"Wings," I gave a sheepish smile, knowing that I would be tracking water all over the motel room. I shook them a bit, succeeding in banging all six of them on the doorway and the door, making the door fly backwards and slam off the wall on the other side, "uh, wings."

Cas took a deep breath in slowly, holding it for a couple seconds before breathing out just as slowly, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "go, I'll leave an apology and a tip for room service."

Thank god.

I hurried past her, my shirt already soaked through from my dripping wings. Sera stopped me before I reached the door and I had to bite down my irritation at being prevented from going to dry my wings.

"You're not wearing a suit?"

"Why would I be wearing a suit?" I frowned, my brow furrowing.

"You know we didn't come to this town to sightsee, right? And I'm pretty sure Cas didn't make you come along out of the kindness of her heart. Either you're useful or you're dead, and we'll make use of that."

I was startled by how outright she was with her threat.

"And no running either, we'll find you."

"Uh... got it," I nodded. My memory of Supernatural was getting dimmer as time went on, as well as my memories from before, seeming like a dream, but from what I remembered, her trepidation made sense.

"Go on, then," she gave me a grin, "we're going to be friends, you and I, I can feel it."

Yeah? You really were coming off friendly just now.

I shook out my wings, splattering everything with a spray of water, before I was out the door.

* * *

I was still sunning my wings on the roof, head nestled on crossed arms while the sun warmed my back, when a rock pinged off nearby.

I was a little drowsy from my sunbathing, but I pulled myself over to the edge of the room and glanced down in time to catch the outfit that was thrown at me.

"Put it on, Agent Valdez!" Sera called up to me.

I rolled my eyes and flapped my wings to make sure they were dry, satisfied with them, and glided down, crashing in a bush before hopping out and heading into our motel room.

"You get dressed in the room this time, the bathroom is already a mess," Cas said as she brushed by me, walking through one of my wings and causing me to shudder. She gave me an odd look before she was out the door.

I made my wings go intangible and dressed myself, losing the intangibility as I fiddled with the last part, the tie. I have never worn a tie before, nor have I ever worn a suit, and though it was odd I kind of liked the suit. The tie was proving to be a problem.

There was a knock on the door and I gave a confirmation that they could enter, glancing over as they walked in, "either of you happen to know how to tie a tie?"

"Google it," Cas shrugged and tossed something at me. I caught it, staring at the badge; looks like I will have to risk tarnishing my reputation with impersonation of a federal officer, something I wasn't ready to do.

I took a deep breath, shoved down all negative emotions, and forced myself to be positive, "so a case? What is it?"

"That's what we want to find out," Cas said, following me out and shutting the motel door behind her before shooting me in the direction of the charger, "I suspect a werewolf, so you'll come in handy. You saw the demon, so maybe you'll figure this guy or gal out too."

"Gal?"

"Just get in," she waved me towards the backseat, so I began to intricate process of fitting my three pairs of huge wings in with me. They took up the entirety of the backseat, feathers flooding over the seats, pins and needles where I was sitting on two of them.

"First Hunt!" Sera squeaked up front in the passenger seat as Cas shut the driver side door after getting in; Sera pointed her little camera at me, something I wasn't sure I really liked about her, "say feathers!"

I said nothing, giving her my best smile and blinking against the flash after the picture.

"Oh, look how cute," she said, bringing it to her face to see the picture, "look at him, he looks like a little bird."

"I do not."

"Wings all everywhere."

"I don't look like a baby bird."

"So, hearts all missing, as far as I got from my run through yesterday but I have to make sure," Cas fortunately changed the topic of conversation, "all we need is to get some suspects and get ready for a stakeout," she glanced at me after saying this, "you'll be very useful for that, since you don't need sleep as far as I know."

"I like sleep."

"Gabe and I can get snacks," Sera offered.

"Okay, I'm listening," my food-loving self perked up.

"See, Cas? He's listenin," Sera beamed back at me.

"Did I say he wasn't?" Cas responded before giving me a weird look, "what's wrong with your tie?"

"What do you mean?" I glanced at my tie and frowned at my pitiful attempt; I had started out going for a tie and just gave up and tried for a bow tie half way through.

Cas did that angry little sigh she does before turning her eyes back to the road, "you can't go in looking like that, it's unprofessional."

"Too late now, we're here," Sera said, grinning at me before looking out her window as Cassandra pulled into the parking lot, "our angel is a doofus."

"'Your' angel is an archangel and he takes offense," I said.

They ignored me, getting out of the charger in unison, so I hopped out myself, smoothing down a couple feathers and probably looking like I was trying to do something to the air.

I followed them into the station like a lost puppy, glancing around nervously; I've never been in a police station before now.

They didn't seem too happy that we were there though, my superior hearing picking up complaints as a couple officers peered out at us from the break room, glancing out the window shutters. I tried to ignore their stares, turning my attention towards the Hunters for instructions.

"Agents Jackson, Chase and Valdez," Cassandra announced as we showed our badges before tucking them away, "we're here about the animal attacks."

"Feds investigating animal attacks?" the officer she had spoken too, the police chief most likely, raised an eyebrow before his gaze was directed at me, "what kind of mess is going on there?"

"I'm new," my face flushed in embarrassment.

He grinned a bit at that, "what about the attacks do you want to know?"

"Was there anything missing from the vic's?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise at the question, "yes, actually, their hearts... these weren't animal attacks... were they?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out."

* * *

We were loaded up with snacks, sitting outside a house as we waited for signs of a werewolf.

I was bored, which meant I was eating a lot of candy. Luckily we had gotten a lot, but I think we all underestimated the speed at which I could endlessly scarf down candy and sweets.

"Stop," Sera snapped when I rummaged my hand around the bottom of the bag, scrambling for more, "you ate em all! Poor up some more or something, you can do that right? Get me more food, you hog!"

"I can't do that," I said sadly, "wait, we got more than one bag didn't we?"

"We got three bags, one for each of us," Cas glanced my way before slowly reaching into her practically full bag of candy, slowly eating her own in front of me, "not our faulit you eat fast."

I saw something move up ahead, two large four pawed forms lurking towards the house, "uh, there's two of them."

"What?" they said in unison, heads snapping towards where I pointed.

Sera laughed, "who knew nerves would get to ya that quickly? There's nothing there."

I frowned and grabbed the gun I had been given, going intangible up through the car roof and into the night. I didn't trust my wings to carry me without jumping off of something high up first and there wasn't much to glide on on a night like this, so I pulled them in tight and sneaked towards the beasts.

I stopped and turned off the safety once I was near, hiding in the shadows, watching as they stalked towards the house. They looked like dogs but were huge, with wolffish figures, paws like a lion's, eyes glowing like coals. Their teeth looked just as huge when I got a nice glimpse of their pearly whites as they scented the air, every breath they took coming out with an underlying growl.

My wings snapped open and I jumped, becoming airborne for the first time from a standing position through sheer fear and muscle memory, when they started baying and howling, tearing towards the house like they were after some monster equivalent of a mailman. I flapped after them, wings chopping the air like a dull axe as I followed them into the house.

They slammed into a locked metal door in the basement of the house with such force that the walls shook. They didn't seem to care that I was there, their excited barking increasing when I simply flew through the door to find the suspect we had been waiting for.

He was sobbing, in the middle of a panic attack, praying and blubbering about a deal he shouldn't have taken, and suddenly it came to me.

This man had sole his soul, for what I did not know, and his time was up. Those were hell hounds outside that door.

They were invisible in the show, and I stuck my head out the door to see them better, surprised that I could see them; they looked pretty cool, I want one.

Then the severity of the situation hit me and I made myself appear to the man. I wanted to bring him some semblance of peace in his final moments and a warm feeling spread through my wings, "for what have you sold your soul?"

It seemed he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw me, staring at me with newfound hope, "you're an angel!"

How did he know that?

"Your wings," he mumbled in awe, hand reaching up in their direction before he dropped to his knees, "please, forgive me lord for I have sinned."

"You sold your soul," I said, struggling to keep it together as a screw fell off the rattling door, "why?"

"It was such a mistake," he begged.

"Tell me, for what did you sell your soul? Speak honestly," I said, talking this way so my voice would stay strong and I would sound cool.

His eyes glanced fearfully at the door as it gave slightly; the hellhounds would get in any minute now, "I thought it would be cool..."

"Spit it out," I was feeling a bit annoyed with his dodgy answers.

"I wanted to become a werewolf."

"What?" I deadpanned.

"So girls would like me like that guy in that movie?"

I pursed my lips, staring deeply at him, unsure if I still wanted to save someone this freaking stupid, "let me get this straight... you sold your soul to be a werewolf because you thought werewolves were like some sort of romantic thing? Oh, lookie here! Romeo ripped out Juliet's heart and ate it! So romantic! Bet all the girls want in on that!"

"I didn't specify that I wanted to be able to control my werewolf form," he breathed, staring at me in shock.

I really wanted to just say, 'sorry, dude, no fools allowed in heaven, peace,' but that seemed a bit mean and I'm too nice to leave anybody for dead let alone this idjit, so I took a deep breath and summoned up my anger. Explosion time. "Get behind me, mortal."

The man practically squeaked in relief, falling on his face a couple times in his hurry to get behind me.

The door slammed open, flying off its hinges and slamming into the wall. The hellhounds stared at me warily, moving their heads to see their prey. I spread my wings, having to curl my wings at the primary coverts, primaries running along the side of the wall.

They stared at my three pairs of wings, a scary look of intelligence gleaming in their eyes as they sniffed and watched warily. I really didn't want to hurt them but I had the feeling I might have to.


	4. Chapter 4

(I don't own this series yet The Winchesters and Cas (the actual Cas, not Cassandra Cas) will be in the story, just not yet, but I can confirm they will be in this story.)

One of them disappeared the minute it saw me; the one still present sniffed the air again, ears perked, alert for any change or chance to attack. If I could, I probably would have peed my hands by now at the idea of facing a hellhound like this moose of a dog before me. A werewolf probably would have been helpful, but the resident teen wolf (or just man wolf, since he was middle aged?) was busy cowering behind me. The hellhound seemed to sense my fear, maybe it knew I how reluctant I was to hurt it, and it took a cautious step forward, watching me carefully.

I soon learned why the hellhound had disappeared, because suddenly there were more of them, four more showing up. The second one was the same huge one from before, but the two new ones were smaller, the size of Saint Bernards, which was still pretty big.

"Nice doggies," I said soothingly, hoping my talent with animals had followed me into this form.

Either it hadn't or hellhounds were an exception, or maybe they were well trained or were just very determined to get to the jerk behind me, because the big ones bared their teeth and lowered their ears as they slowly stalked towards me, a ridge of fur sticking up on their backs.

They were splitting, trying to flank me, and I flapped one of my wing pairs, "halt! Back off!" I really miss my dog... and now that I'm thinking of home, I really miss my cat too, and my family, though I knew Gordon the dog and Dean the cat would be more glad to see me than my family, except maybe my brother, Ryan, who was my best friend and my other best friends.

The two small ones darted forward and I raised my arms to protect my face.

It was a distraction.

The two large ones leaped to my wings, teeth tearing through feathers and skin and muscle, reaching the bone beneath in seconds.

Since becoming an Archangel, I haven't felt pain, but this was the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. I screamed, two working pairs flapping futily as they took my inexperienced, lightweight ass down to the ground.

I hit one, sending it flying into a wall with a yelp. The other growled angrily and bit down on my wing, rewarding itself with a scream even as its claws tore through my suit and left gouges in my chest.

The man was screaming and pleading, the smaller hounds ripping out feathers of my wings, the large limbs the only thing in their way. They finally managed to duck under them and tore into their prey, who screamed bloodcurdling screams of agony and terror.

Golden feathers still hanging from their bloody jowls, the two larger ones backing off the second their target's soul was dragged off to hell.

My mission had failed, the man dead, and my wings in tatters. I was surprised that none of them had been ripped off, though I was pretty sure there was nothing even close to flying in my future, since I lacked multiple flight feathers on several of them. My chest was already healing, but it seemed that my wings did not work the same way as my vessel did.

The hounds had disappeared, their mission accomplished where mine had failed, leaving me alone in the bloody room. Blood and feathers everywhere and a bloody corpse in the corner.

It seemed the longer the warm feeling stayed in my wings, the more uncomfortable they got. I wanted it to stop and was surprised when it did.

I glanced over at the body and a sour taste filled my mouth right before I puked.

* * *

What I now knew was that an angry Cassandra and her lectures were to be feared at all costs. One lecture on 'splitting off like you're in a shitty horror movie' and a couple weeks of bed rest later we were back on the road towards a new case, two stir-crazy girls and one practically useless Archangel.

Even though I was the only one who could see my wings without having to look through a camera -and Sera was currently missing her camera for some odd reason (why are you guys looking at me? I have absolutely no idea where your precious little videotaper of death went, Sera.)- I was still self-conscious on my messy wings. No amount of of preening and praying could get them to look any less crappy. Even worse, the new feathers coming in absolutely hurt and I had already went through the painful process of ridding myself of the broken and snapped feathers and, surprisingly, new feathers were already growing in the bare spots. I was surprised they were already growing back in, since what I read about from google during my bedrest said a bird's damaged feathers take twelve months to grow out.

According to Cas, what I needed was fighting skills and to get over my whole peacemaker 'let's all be friends' thing.

"A vamp's not gonna let you live just because you were nice and asked politely not to die," she had put it.

"They would need my blade to kill me," I had said, forgetting that I should not have known that information.

"And where's that? As long as you don't have it in your possession, you should always assume your enemy has it, so then if the time comes when they do you won't be taken off guard," she had replied. She'd had a point.

As it was, apparently I was supposed to continue to take it easy, since I got stuck with research while they went out to investigate.

"See this number?" Cas said, sliding a piece of paper over to me where I sat at the table in front of a laptop, sulking.

I huffed, glancing at it.

"If your research pulls up anything you don't know about or you don't know what you're facing it or how to kill it, you call this guy. His name is Garth, and he's the new Bobby Singer, now that he's back after his months of absence. I hear he settled down, but he's back to helping put his fellow Hunters this way. And if you find anything, call us, no more going off on your own."

"Okie-dokie," I perked up and nodded, struggling to resist the urge to pick up the phone and dial it now, "and if I figure anything about the case I'll call you guys."

Cas gave me and encouraging nod, grabbing her keys and checking to make sure she had her fake badge, "coming, Agent Hotch?"

"Coming, Agent Reid," Sera all but sang, waving to me as she followed Cas out the door, "see ya, Gabriel!"

I waved, but she reopened the door a second later.

"And I swear to your Father that if you squirrel any more stuff away I will find them and burn them."

"Including your camera?"

She gasped, "I knew you were the one who-"

"Agent Hotch!"

"I'll talk to you later," she pointed at my smug face before disappearing out the door, slamming it shut.

The second she was gone I pulled up YouTube and letting 'I've Got The Magic in Me' blast from it as I opened up a google tab and then a facebook tab; time for something I never really had the patience to do before... facebook stalking.

One hour of in depth facebook stalking of the victims later, I was bored out of my mind and knew way too much about how many vacations to Disneyland and Disneyworld the rich one goes on -which I have never, myself, gone to unlike little Miss selfie- and how much they all complained about being single and alone aside from the third, who was proudly aromantic.

Wait...

I took a glance at the notepad beside me, eyes scanning the connections, struggling to recall the episodes of Supernatural that I have seen. Something like this... and if they've all been single...

My hand moved, but I left it hovering over the call button instead of calling Cas.

This was my chance to prove I was useful. If I single handedly took care of this case myself, then maybe Cas could see that I can be useful.

I took a deep breath and dialed Garth.


	5. Chapter 5

(I don't own this series. And the Winchesters will be in this story, I've already written it in. I haven't updated in so long because I was grounded, hence the wait, but while I was grounded I wrote in a notebook, so I've got stuff. But I might still be grounded, so...)

One ring.

Two rings.

Click, "Garth."

"Uh, hi," I suddenly tripped over my words at the familiar voice. I was actually talking to Garth!

"Oh, I haven't heard your voice before, you a new Hunter?"

"Um, ye-yeah, k-kinda, I'm... I'm Jarvis," I closed my eyes, irritated with myself, "I- I mean Gabriel, I'm Gabriel, sorry."

"Cool, what'cha need, Gabriel?"

"I have a case involving people I think are virgins, but I'm not sure if it's relevant or what we're hunting."

"Oh, cool, that limits some, opens some; lots of things like virgins, anything else? Any connections? Boys or girls?"

"All girls."

"Any bodies?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Hmm, so no bodies at all?"

"Nope. Wait," I checked the message Cas sent me. There was a new one, a married mother who'd been mugged and left with severe, third-degree burns, "uh, we just got a new vic. Seems we have something fiery with a taste for jewelry and virgins."

"Ooh," he said apologetically after a moment's pause, "looks like you got a dragon problem! Hold on a minute, I'm pretty sure Bobby told me something about Sam and Dean taking one of these out. Let me give them a call, so just hold for a minute."

I sighed in relief, trying to remember anything from my memory of the show, but everything was hazy, less clear than my most recent memories all the way back up to waking up in that alley. It wasn't too long until he picked back up.

"Looks like you're gonna need a sword forged with dragon's blood for that, so I don't envy you. There's none near you, but Sam and Dean say they have one and they're a couple states over; want me to see if they'll come take care of it for you?"

I nearly fangirled but kept my cool; as much as I wanted to meet the Winchesters -or did I? Were they and Gabriel on the right foot?- if I let them take care of it then I would never prove myself. Maybe I could get the sword?

"How long would it take for them to get here?"

"Hold on..." Garth said, and I could vaguely hear him talking to somebody, most likely on a different phone, before he picked back up, "they're on a case themselves, so Dean says maybe a couple days."

The virgins might be dead by then, "any other way to kill a dragon?"

"That's all I got," Garth replied.

"I think I'll wing it," I decided.

"Wait, what? I think that's a really bad ide-"

I hung up and went to jump off the roof, sending a quick text to Cas.

 _We have a dragon problem, I'll see if I can find it._

* * *

Looking back, this whole thing was a very bad idea.

The cave was easy enough to find -ha, no, it took three hours, finding it sucked- and it was more of an old, abandoned mine than a cave.

I felt a bit claustrophobic just looking in, but I finally gathered up the courage to squeeze me and my bigass wings in, surprised when it got bigger the farther in I went, until I finally entered a huge cavern. I was relieved to see the three, crying victims locked in a cage in the middle of the cavern, surrounded by metal plates. There was treasure EVERYWHERE, to the point where I couldn't even see the ground, a huge collection that suggested this dragon has been here for quite a while.

They started screaming against the rags in their mouths even as I neared them, promising them that I was here to save them. I climbed onto one of the golden plates, not thinking twice for even a moment.

Their screams getting louder and a loud thud behind me, followed by the sound of gold falling on gold, was the only warning I got before a circle of flame flared up around me, ignited by a puff of fire breath.

It was holy oil, trapping me; it's only an hour or two past noon and I've already messed up.

Again.

"Welcome, little angel," a raspy voice spoke, and I turned to face the dragon.

She was huge, a golden-scaled, golden-eyed, scaly winged beast with talons and teeth that looked sharper than good comebacks. I gaped up at her, for as far as I could remember the dragons on Supernatural had been human..ish.

One such curved talon was used to gently turn my face up towards her, "yes, the scent of an Archangel is not unfamiliar to I, the first dragon. You honestly think I wouldn't have noticed all that power circling around my mountain? Let me see your wings, I want to know which one you are."

I pulled them in closer; I was trembling like a leaf in a hurricane but I managed to stay standing somehow, "if you want to see my wings then you have to let the virgins go home, alive and unhurt, right now."

She laughed, a raspy and scary sound, but waved a taloned hand dismissively; three others, humans with scaly wings that must be regular dragons, flew down to the call, taking the virgins away. The very moment they were back -empty-handed, their claws clean so they hadn't hurt them- the first dragon turned her eyes to me, "a dragon always keeps a promise, as I have. Show me your wings."

"I don't know how," the fact brought me a smug sense of victory.

Her eyes narrowed and a puff of thick smoke blew from her nose, coiling around me, "you'll know by a warm feeling in your wings, it is the same with dragons. You can work from there?"

So that's what that feeling had been. With a grim expression, I focused on the memory of it and the uncomfortable feeling spread through my wings. The dragon let out a gasp of awe; I flinched as she ran her talons along the golden feathers of one wing. No doubt the dragon fascination with gold had made my wings instantly catch her eye.

"It seems I have caught quite the prize," she hissed out, and her dragonlings grumbled in agreement, watching me with greedy expressions. The first dragon snatched me up, roughly holding my wings down against my sides so that I could not fly away, "boys, set up a holy oil fire circle around the perimeter so that your mother's new pet won't escape, will you? And make a birdcage," in a quieter breath she huffed, "lord knows I wouldn't trust them not to take my new toy in an instant."

Oh, I didn't like the sound of that; if anything I was shaking even more now and I pulled my wings in as tightly as I could. The first dragon plopped down on a particularly large heap of gold and stroked my feathers.

The dragon grabbed one of my wings and pulled on it, opening the wing herself and examining it further. I tried to pull it back, which ticked her off, so she plucked a primary and held it up to see it better, ignoring my pained cry.

But then I discovered the pure bliss that was getting the area running along my spine, one I can't reach with the wings in the way, scratched and it almost made up for the irritation in my wings, which were getting painful from being visible to the eyes of lesser beings; my wings spread out comfortably, instantly relaxing despite myself like she'd hit some sort of off switch, making me go limp despite the possible threat on my life. This time, when she plucked a feather, I barely even noticed, the attacked wing barely even flinching.

I was relieved when they finally finished the bird cage, a golden cage on a golden chain. The first dragon simply dropped me in, which earned a squeak as I landed on my chest, before dropping the chain around her neck. I was jostled around, the ground disappearing for just a second when it thudded against the base of her neck. She twisted the cage around to admire it before dropping it again.

Then, as if my day wasn't **wonderful** enough, they then sat down to eat -as in, the three humanoid dragons watching and keeping a safe distance until the first dragon had had her fill and then tearing into the leftovers- while I didn't get so much as a pinch of it; not that I want to be eating what they were eating, of course, but it would have been nice to have an offer to turn down. Just because I don't get hungry doesn't mean I don't get hungry... shush, it makes sense.

They eventually settled down, the first dragon using a mound of golden coins as a pillow, with the whole treasure hoard as her bed. The birdcage was on its side, so I kept getting my feet stuck in the bars, and her snores hurt my sensitive, enhanced ears. When the smaller ones finally settled down to sleep, I waited until I was sure they were all asleep before making my move.

I went intangible, stepping right through the bars. I kept my wings visible, in case I needed the camouflage they gave me in this room of gold, and climbed up a dragon statue, a golden statue adorned with jewels and gems. It took leaping off of it to get airborne. I didn't make it very far, thanks to my inexperience with the actual flying part of flying instead of being able to glide or ride a current. I froze after crashing, waiting to make sure they were still asleep before I continued.

I spent a good amount of time exploring the perimeter and walls of the cavern, unable to find even a tiny area I could fit through in the holy oil fire defense. What I did find was a skeleton decked in golden armor, bones charred and head at a weird angle. I apologized profusely, face cringing, as I took his armor and his shield and sword for extra camouflage.

I buried myself under some gold, shifting my wings to make stuff fall onto them for further coverage, and eased my arm into the shield straps and waited. My legs were bunched up below me, ready to spring at a moment's notice. I was protected from the aches of exertion and being motionless that would have plagued a mortal as the hours ticked by.

It seemed like an eternity before they finally stirred, the first dragon drowsily reaching into the birdcage to pull me out. When her clawed hand came back empty, the sleep extinguished from her eyes and her outraged roar shook the very walls as she killed one of the others, "WHERE IS IT!? WHICH ONE OF YOU TOOK IT!?"

The others were instantly in the air, trying to avoid her wrath.

"The fire is still lit, he has to be here somewhere!" one of them freaked as she grabbed him right out of the air.

She threw him, and he barely managed to right himself, "FIND IT OR I SWEAR, IF HE ESCAPED I WILL KILL YOU BOTH!"

I nervously shifted my wings, grateful when they didn't notice. It seemed I would have to fight my way out of this, and I shifted a little in preparation.

It took a while, but eventually one of them neared me and I could hear the noisy sound of it scenting the air, huffing and puffing as it tracked me.

I exploded upwards, swinging the shield and clipping his face, causing him to stumble backwards. A sense of familiarity filled me and my arm moved of its own accord in sync with the shield bash, moving with the intent to kill.

He cried out as the sword left a bloody mouth in his stomach, organs spilling out before I ran him through with it, his blood painting the gold around us as well as splattering on me as the sword was shoved in up to its hilt, a bright light accentuating his skull.

I withdrew my sword with a sickening squelch, but there was no time to feel anything, my body twisting and jabbing at the second as his nosy flight registered in my mind. My mind had been left behind as my body worked the violent memory that my mind had forgotten.

A feeling of disembodied gratitude for the mistake the First made in killing the third was all my mind was aware of.

The second flared his scaly wings, but momentum cares for no one, and he practically impaled himself on my blade, doubled over and dying as I yanked it out from between his human ribs and turned to face their mother before the body had even completed its fall to the ground.

She roared again, a burst of flame accompanying it, "for this, I will rip those wings off your cooling corpse!"

I should have been terrified, but I was high on adrenaline and in the moment. I should have been crippled with guilt and shock, but I felt indifferent as I braced myself and gave a roar of my own. My true voice ripped from my vessel's throat, making her ears bleed, and I charged.

I dived beneath the blast of flame that erupted from her mouth, raising the shield to protect myself, but I still felt the heat, especially with the shield heating up. I came out with singed feathers and the scent of fire sticking to me, my shield glowing with a red tint; had I been mortal, I would have dropped the shield, but I am not mortal and so I barely acknowledged the shield burning my arm.

I kept going towards this whale of a reptile, a part of me sad that there wasn't a minstrel present to record this epic. Gabriel the Archangel, taking on a dragon like a knight of old! It was the first thought to run through my mind since I began my attack. I tripped and slid on loose coins and treasure, of course, which wasn't as epic, but hey, you try running on a bunch of stuff, but I did make it to the First.

It was as I reached her that I realized maybe it had taken too long to reach her, since my mind was catching back up.

She clawed at me before it was back in full and I instinctively swiped at her claws, indifferent to her cries of pain and outrage.

The sword, the realization came slowly, whoever that poor sod was must have gotten his hands on a blade forged in dragon blood.

Her huge gold-scaled head came straight at me, teeth the size of my arm snapping at me and narrowly catching me. I took my chance to attempt a dragonborne style KO, scrambling up her face and giving her a sword straight in the eye.

She screamed, reaching up and grabbing me, claws wrapping tightly around me before she whipped me straight at the nearest cavern wall, which -unfortunately for me- wasn't that far away. The back of my head smacked into it first with a sickening crack, followed by the rest of my body as I hit it, more snaps and cracks from my vessel as I met the equivalent of getting hit by a parade of semis.

I found myself unable to move as my Grace struggled to fix what should have killed me. The fear rose up, shaking loose the hold battle rage had over me and kicking it to the curb, snapping me out of a haze so to speak.

The First had angrily ripped the sword from the mess that was now her left eye, throwing it away from her, and my fear grew as it clattered into obscurity to be hidden among the rest of the hoard. Smoke huffed from her nose and trailed from her mouth with every breath as she waved her head around, trying to spot me with her one good eye.

The brain reconnected with the body and the bones finished getting back into place, the skull fixing itself as if the wound had never been there save for the evidence of the blood already drying in my hair and all over the rest of my body; she located me, her one-eyed gaze snapping onto me.

I stared up at her in utter terror as she stormed towards me; my fear exploded out of me, and we both froze as a rumble shook through the cavern, the walls cracking in response.

Something in the stone walls snapped and dropped the mountain on us both.

(Originally, I had Gabe win the battle, letting the dragon keep her life in exchange for all her stuff now being Gabriel's and being in his servitude, but then I was like... you know what would be a lot more fun? Dropping a mountain on them.)


	6. Chapter 6

(I don't own this series)

Dragons cannot go intangible, and apparently their bodies do not react well to getting a mountain dropped on them. I, meanwhile, can go intangible -a skill I am gradually getting better at- which is good since otherwise my vessel probably would be useless and pulverized below thousands of feet of rock and dirt.

Unfortunately, that millions of dollars worth of loot she had stocked up over the years?

That is... also... now buried under a mountain.

It took me much too long, hours and hours of mind numbing boredom and waaaaaayyyy too long since my last sugar fix, but finally I crawled out from the rubble, sputtering and coughing as I went tangible again for the first time in days. My only comfort was that the irritation was gone from my wings, since I had let them go back to their normal state of not being visible to the mortal eye.

My wings were sore from the rough treatment, and I felt like complete and utter shit for the first time in a long while. I managed to get down to civilization, lucky when I also managed to avoid the people and news crews doing segments on the collapse.

I swiped a newspaper from a garbage bin upon reaching the town below, gut coiling as I saw the date. I had been gone for a week; no wonder it felt like an eternity.

No doubt my Hunters had moved on without me, which sincerely sucked since they were practically all I had.

Some of my feathers were black, burned by the dragon's fire, and seemed to have decided they were going to be permanently as black as a crow feather, so maybe wings don't react well to fire. Luckily, it was only a couple, scattered and not in the same place and mostly at the top of the wing. The nasty burn on my arm from the shield seemed to be having issues healing amd my hair was still sticky with my blood, my armor splattered with it and the blood of the dragons.

I wasn't sure if it was shock or something else, but I couldn't focus much farther than putting one foot after the other. My phone that Cas had bought for me was a ruined mess that I had left behind, so there was no calling her and I hadn't memorized any of the numbers in the contacts. I did still have a certain slip of paper, though.

Right foot. Left foot. Repeat.

I wasn't even good at it either, since I kept stumbling every now and then.

"Oh my god!"

I had been spotted.

I turned in time for the flash of the camera, the onlooker's eyes going wide as she realized I had spotted her.

I must have looked a sorry, sorry sight, because her eyes turned to concern, but her eyes flickered over my form, "are you some lost extra from, like, a movie or something?"

I gave her a tired grin, "uh, yeah, I think I might be, uh, really, really lost. I'm one of the side characters in a war film, but the director must have accidentally given me the wrong address, because I can't find anybody."

"Oh," relief flickered over her face, chasing away the fear.

"Hey, uh, you wouldn't mind letting me use your phone to give them a call would you?"

"So, you're some sort of actor?"

"Yes, actually," I rolled with my pie, "I'm kind of big shot where I come from."

"Oh, wow," her eyes lit up like anyone meeting a famous person would, "oh, yeah, I have totally seen all your stuff, big fan!"

"Oh, so you already know my name then," I grinned, and she nodded vigorously, "so, can I use your phone?"

"Uh, yeah! Of course!"

I thanked her as she handed it over and I pulled the slip of paper from my pocket, inputting the number into the phone, "hey, is it alright if I just stand over there? I have to ask the director some questions about the script and, well, you know, no spoilers."

"O-of course!"

I gave her my most charming, sheepish -as if I was embarrassed about this whole mistake- smile and stepped away just enough to have a private conversation.

One, two.

"Garth, here."

"H-hey."

"Gabriel, that you?"

"Jarvis," I heard myself say. Guess I'm talking now, let's do this, yep.

Garth either didn't notice or chose to ignore the accidental correction, "phew, had me worried for a second there, newbie! I tried calling you back but you didn't answer. So was it a dragon? Did you run? I'm guessing you ran since it seems like you're still alive."

"Four," I said, "four dragons."

I said that a bit too loud and the girl whose phone I was borrowing gave me a curious glance, watching me carefully in case I ran off with her phone, anybody's response to lending their phone to some bloody stranger in a weird get-up.

"I, I killed two of them," I continued, "the third was killed by the fourth and I accidentally dropped a mountain on the fourth, who was in straight up dragon form. I'm talking scales, wings, four legs, size of a whale dragon."

There was a pause before I heard a surprised laugh and Garth responded, "you dropped a mountain on the fourth?"

"Yeah, that's what took me so long, I had to climb out."

Garth hummed on the other end before responding, "I'd say; you don't sound so great. Want me to give the nearest Hunters to your location a call to see if maybe they can pick you up?"

"Cas and Sera?"

"Last names?"

"I... I can't seem to remember at the moment."

"Look, where are you? I can give somebody a call to come get you. Crawling out of rubble after facing four dragons really doesn't sound good for your health."

I glanced around, breath fogging in the early morning air, looking for the nearest street sign. The idea of my burned wings being squished into a car right now was not a fun idea. A shaky breath escaped me as I raised the phone back to my ear, "I need to find Cas and Sera."

"We'll find them, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Garth sounded relieved, "how hurt are you?"

"Couple burns, concussion maybe," I said, "I.. I got off lucky. It was... epic, to be honest. I.. I think I'm gonna be okay."

"You want me to send somebody anyways? You shouldn't be walking around with a possible concussion."

"Cas and Sera are my friends," I said, "I have to find them. Thank you for helping me, Garth."

"Anytime, it's what I do. I've got another call coming in, so I'm gonna let you go."

"Bye," I hung up the phone, but kept it to my ear as I walked back, "yeah, yeah, I got it, Mike, I'll be there in ten at least; no, I swear I won't miss the scene, okay, buddy? Yeah.. yeah, okay. Remind me we should double check the locations from now on, okay? Yeah, I'll be there."

I pretended to hang it up and handed it back to the lady, "I cannot thank you enough, ma'am."

"Yeah, no problem," she said, ruffling through her purse, probably about to ask for an autograph.

I was already gone before she had time to look up.

* * *

Everything from before waking up as Gabriel is hazy, but I remember that I had brothers, and a lot of relatives that I can't really remember. No mom that I could think of, but I had an aunt that my brothers and I helped dad to kick out. I think she went to prison. I remember my second oldest brother and my oldest brother were always fighting. I was the youngest, and I had another brother besides those two. When dad left us, my oldest brother started fighting again with the second, everybody always fighting. Eventually I left, unable to watch them all fight anymore, and by this point I can barely recall their faces or their names or very many details; all I know is that I had siblings, and that's why I left. After that, I ended up in a foster home, where I lived until waking up as Gabe, and the details of that were getting dim too.

What was my point in this?

Oh, yeah.

I didn't get very many hugs in my later years of that life and none in this one.

I'm used to hugs.

Sera had practically tackled me the minute I was walking into the motel.

It made me flinch and tense up, but once I realized that it was a hug and they were still here, I willed myself to relax and hugged her back. A couple of my wings even joined in, but she didn't notice since she couldn't see them.

After the chick flick moments and everybody had calmed down and listened to my explanation of where I had been, Cas rewarded me with another lecture on putting myself in 'unnecessary' danger with no back up.

* * *

I left the motel once the two had settled down to sleep, passing up an offer to switch with one of them to have a bed since 'yeah, Gabriel, I guess what you did was pretty heroic' but I turned them down, saying I was more comfortable on the makeshift bed I always had with me at motels, which wasn't a lie since I could spread my wings out more and had more room to sprawl out.

I found myself at a bar, planning on mourning the fact that I had taken four lives, monster or not. Guess I'm technically a monster myself. The bartender must have sensed my mood, because he glanced up at me when I sat down at the bar.

"Something with a lot of alcohol, please," I sighed, guessing that, though this was my first time drinking, it would probably take a lot to get an Archangel drunk.

When I drank my fill there, I went to a couple more bars to drink more, eventually staying at the last one when I realized my filter had pretty much pooped into nonexistence, which must mean that I succeeded.

Of course, maybe the fact that I was standing on a table declaring myself the meme god should have been an indication that I was drunk, but it didn't really register. The fact that I was also declaring that I was Loki and demanding everybody to kneel should have added to that to.

"I am Loki!" I declared from atop a table, my drunk ass almost falling off of it, "creator of coffee! Angel god of memes! KNEEL, MORTALS, AND I WILL TAKE MY DIVINE SHIRT OFF AND THROW IT TO MY FOLLOWERS!"

Oh, so that's what happened to my shirt.

Luckily, underneath the divine shirt I had a divine six-pack. Unluckily, this gathered even more attention, a gathering of women and even some men, and I started feeling claustrophobic. When I left, I took a whole bottle with me, staggering down the street like a zombie.

A cat looked up from a bag of garbage it was digging through as I passed, sniffing the air and deciding I wasn't a threat so it didn't run away, "you're drunk."

I stared at it before chalking it off to being drunk and I grinned at it, taking a swig of the bottle. "I'm drunk," I confirmed, deciding to leave it at that, "drunk and insane."

* * *

I eventually staggered past a blonde woman who was sitting on a bench, staring at the stars. She merely glanced at me, so I guess she decided I was a harmless drunk.

"Pretty," I murmured, staring up at the stars, the arm holding the now empty bottle limp at my side.

"Excuse me?"

"The stars," I clarified, deciding the grass was a good enough spot to sit.

"Are you drunk?"

"I was mourning the death of the enemy," I summed up.

"I... see. Did it make you feel better?"

"No, I lost my favorite shirt," I frowned at the bottle before letting out a weary sigh, "I always thought my first time drinking would be for a fun occasion. Instead, I realized I'm the kind of drunk who declares themself as the angelic creator of coffee and the god of memes."

She chuckled at that, which was good since she seemed to have been sad, but she seemed to be not as sad now.

"They call me Gabriel J. Stark," I introduced myself.

"Mary Winchester," she replied.

I glanced at her, confused over why it sounded familiar, but finally let the idea slip through like the minnow it was. I stood up, finally, reaching to smooth out my shirt and realizing it wasn't there, before I moved to throw the bottle out in a nearby garbage can, "it was nice to meet you, Mary."

"It was nice to meet you, too, Gabriel," she gave a small smile before it fell as I stepped into the light of the streetlight, "what happened to your chest?"

"Hmm?" I glanced down and noticed the scar, which I was guessing was from when I- Gabriel died, "oh, I got stabbed. I got better."

"You got stabbed?"

"My brother and I had a... little disagreement," wow, understatement of the century. If. Had been sober, maybe I would have left it at that, "he wanted me to fight against our other brother, Michael. I chose neither Heaven nor Hell; I chose to side with Humanity, and so my brother killed me for it."

"What?" she had tended considerably, instantly alert, hand reaching towards her waist.

"You're scared now," I realized, wings dropping, "I'm sorry, I'll go."

"Wa-"

But I was already gone, ridding her of much needed company as I leaped off the garbage can and took to the sky.


	7. Chapter 7

(I don't own either series)

I wasn't flying very long before I was crashing, except I was still drunk, so I landed on a Corvette that was parked in the parking lot of a target. After rolling off of that and ignoring the man sized dent now a fixture of the car that was blaring its horn at me, I set out to find my way back to the motel.

* * *

"Can I have more excedrin?" I moaned.

"Well, you shouldn't have gone out and spent all night drinking, Mr. I-Lost-My-Shirt," Cas said angrily, but she was quieter than usual and she slid the bottle over to me, "be careful, I don't want you dying from an overdose."

I downed the entire bottle.

"Gabe!" she hissed, "are you trying to kill yourself!?"

"The great Archangel Gabriel will not be felled by these pills of healing," I said, trying to sound like -a quieter version of- Thor.

"The great Archangel Gabriel? The same one who keeps running off and getting hurt?" Cas raised an eyebrow.

The bathroom door opened and Sera stepped out, still rubbing at her hair with a towel, "is Gabriel's hangover gone yet? I'm hungry."

"You want us to bring you back something or do you want to come?" Cas asked me.

"Mmmm," I rubbed at my face before whining, "I wanna come too."

"You serious?" Sera glanced at me before shrugging, "okay, where do you want to go?"

"Candy store?" I really hoped we could get some candy, since I haven't had anything but alcohol in the last week and the couple days before.

"I second that," Sera and I both turned puppy eyes on Cas.

She rolled her eyes, "maybe on the way."

"Yas."

"But you have to wear a shirt," Cas told me, going to get her stuff, "we'll stop somewhere on the way to our next stop, and maybe we'll stop at a candy store. Wheels up in five."

* * *

I dozed off at some point, but Sera nudged me awake when Cas stopped outside a diner a couple states over. Apparently we were somewhere in rural New York, a little town where there might be a case. They'd already gotten a motel, but had let me sleep until they got to the diner.

I wasn't completely awake yet and I was also extremely exhausted, so I just kinda trailed after my Hunters and my head was tucked into my folded arms on the table the second we were seated at a booth.

"Gabriel," Cas tried to wake me when the waitress came to get our drink orders.

I grumbled, not moving my head.

"Milkshake sound fine?"

I gave Cas a thumbs up for confirmation, feeling too exhausted to reply.

"What flavor?"

"Strwbrry," I grumbled, the answer coming out muffled.

"He'll have a large strawberry-"

"Me too!" Sera piped up.

"Two large strawberry milkshakes and a water for me please," Cas finished, and I heard the waitress scribble something onto her notepad and answer out a 'sure' before walking off to turn it in.

"Okay, Gabe, you going to look for something to eat?"

"Just order something unhealthy for me," I said, but after a moment of silence I let out a whine and raised my head, glancing through the menu before dropping my head back down to rest on my arms, "the monster burger and the pie of the day, please."

"Okay, I'll let her know for you when she comes back."

"I want the smiley face pancake," I heard Sera decide.

"You're too old to be able to order from the kids meal," I could practically hear Cas getting annoyed with the two of us.

"Fine, I'll have what Gabe's having."

"Gabriel is an Archangel," I could practically hear Cas roll her eyes, "you are mortal, you should choose something healthy."

"I want extra bacon on it," Sera said instead.

"Fine," Cas said, sounding utterly defeated.

The bell atop the door to the diner rung, piercing the leftovers of my hangover that had downgraded to an ache in my skull and the loud voices of the newcomers didn't help.

"-all my shirts stink. If you don't stop ironing my shirts with alcohol-"

"Oh, don't be a drama queen, Sammy. It's not that bad."

"How would you like it if I ironed your shirts with-" the voice cut off about the same time the waitress stopped by with our drinks, the silence bringing with it the feeling that I was being watched.

"Alright, here's the milkshakes and here's your water. You guys know what you want to order now?"

As Cas rattled off the orders, Sera poked me, "drink your milkshake, you'll feel better."

"Shoot me," I grumbled out.

"It's really good."

"Fne," I slurred out the word through my arm before forcing myself to lift up my head, pulling the drink to myself and downing half of it in one go. It was good, and it took the edge off my headache.

"You're gonna get a-"

"Ah!" I hissed.

"-brain freeze..."

"Thank you for the warning," I said sarcastically.

"You are so very welcome," she laughed before wincing herself, "ow, I should have taken my own advice."

I snickered, but now that I knew archangels could get brain freezes I was much more careful with how quickly I drank it. When it was empty and my head was back on the table, I could actually keep my eyes open and I felt my gaze wander over to the two that seemed very, very familiar at the table across from us. They were both staring right at me, though, so I averted my gaze and glanced back a bit later only to find they were still staring at me. I yawned and simply turned my head the other way and closed my eyes to return to my nap.

When my food finally came and the delicious smell of it reached my nose, I instantly peeked up, practically engulfing my burger with how quickly I snarfed it down; the fact that I technically didn't need to breathe also helped.

"Did you even taste that?" Cas stared at me weird, "it is uncivilized to eat like that."

"What?" Sera asked, having already stuffed the majority of her burger down her gullet and her mouth full of food.

"Yes! Isn't it wonderful? I did taste it!" I closed my eyes in pure bliss as I bit into my slice of pie, "mmmm, yes, flavor."

"Seems you're awake now," Cas gave me a glance of relief before beginning on her rabbit food (salad, people, it's a salad, a really big salad. I used to like salads, before they took on the taste of molecules).

"Yeah, I don't know what was wrong, I haven't felt that tired in forever," I grinned, "I think the hangover is pretty much gone now too."

"Did you happen to remember where your shirt went?"

My face went beet red, "I, uh, m-m...may have thrown it at somebody."

Sera burst out laughing, "why the hell did you take off your shirt and throw it at somebody? You sign up at a strip club for extra cash?"

"I declared myself the god of memes and threw it to my followers," I admitted, my face getting redder.

This made her laugh harder.

"God of memes?"

"I put Archangel Gabriel into the google search bar," I shrugged, "when I was bedridden? Turns out that the angel of media created coffee. Gabriel sounds like a pretty cool guy."

"Why would an angel need to make coffee?" Cas asked, reaching for her water only to find it empty, so she put it near the edge of the table to signal for a refill. She seemed to ignore that I had accidentally referred to myself in the third tense since I had momentarily forgotten I was technically Gabriel, probably chalking it off to my amnesia.

"He gave it to some saint," I replied, "that's pretty much all I remember reading."

"Anybody who creates coffee cannot possibly be evil," Sera said, mouth half full with her monster burger, which got her a scolding from Cassandra.

"I hope so," I nodded in agreement.

"Find anything else out about Archangel Gabriel?" Cas asked, "the more we can figure out, the better."

"Maybe I can call Garth," I shrugged, "he may know something- oh, that reminds me... I, um, may have broken the phone you gave me."

"That's why I gave you a disposable phone," Cas said, not even fazed, which surprised me, "I'll give you a new one at the motel."

"Speaking of the motel and staying at it," Sera said after she finished her burger, "how about next time you decide to go get off your ass drink, let me come with you to make sure you don't get molested or something."

"What? You need a wingman?" I pulled the Michael Weston smirk and wink that I have spent so much time practicing in front of a mirror.

"Punny," she smirked back, "I like you."

"What, and you didn't like me before?" I feigned a hurt look and placed my hand over my heart, "that pains me greatly."

Sera grinned, but before she could respond, her attention was diverted as the waitress left the bill.

"Oh, I got this," I said, eager to prove how knowledgeable Google had made me, "I looked this stuff up too."

"You googled how to pay a bill?"

"Absolutely! And taxes, God, I hate taxes so much, I think looking it up just made me more confused."

"I'll explain taxes to you later, then," the corners of Cassandra's lips twitched upwards in amusement, "can you get the tip too, or did google not explain that?"

"Tip?" I gave her a confused look, "I know about tips, but you have to pay tips?"

"Here, I can help!" Sera said, which earned another scolding from Cas for being loud. Sera, true to her word, leaned across the table and helped me figure it out. We needed Cas to add in with a calculator since Sera and I both hated math and were both equally astonished when Cas did it without a calculator, which put her in an entirely new light for us both, but she just seemed annoyed by our astonishment.

"You should always pay tips," Cas told me.

"Google didn't mention that."

"Google isn't going to give you everything," Sera said, "hell, I remember when we were trying to figure out how to kill an atshen. That was about as much hell as actually killing the thing."

"An atshen?" I asked, honestly surprised, "I wrote a book involving one of those once, but the book got destroyed before I could get finish it. They eat men, right? You have to dig a pit and trap it in it and let it starve to death if dehydration doesn't kill it first. Then you have to burn the body."

"You're a writer?"

"For a time, I kind of miss it," I said honestly, "it was a long time ago, though, so my writing skills are probably rusty. It was before, well, you know."

"Ooh! Tell us a story, then!" Sera said, looking to me expectantly.

"Right now?" I gaped before letting myself relax, shifting my multiple wings awkwardly while the two Hunters stared expectantly at me from the other side of the table. I heard hushed whispers from the other table, but it seemed that everybody was partly tuning in, which fried my nerves, "I'm not sure how good it would be, as I said, it's been a while."

Damn, Cas and Sera can pull off some pretty good puppy eyes.

"Okay, maybe, but it will probably end up long and stuff, I'm not too great at on the spot," I rubbed the back of my neck self consciously before thinking, "and I always tend to make long ones."

"Those are the best," Sera argued, "please?"

"Okay," I relented, trying to think of one to tell. I opened my mouth and started to speak as one rose up in my mind like it belonged there. I could see it so clearly, "this is a story about a boy, not very old but not an utter child either. He was alone, a mere pheasant like any other in the kingdom, aside from the fact that he was a thief, like most of the orphaned urchins that ran amok throughout the city within the kingdom's stone walls. Thing was, this kingdom was in the middle of a war. You see, this is a story about a boy that made a deal with an angel to save a world that looked down on him, a world which never knew of the sacrifice that led to their salvation."

Or, in other words, how Gabriel got his true vessel so long ago.

* * *

The story took us long into the evening, but many stayed to hear it through. I also blew a lot of my money buying milkshakes throughout the entire time. I was feeling much better with all the sugar running through my veins, though, which kind of confused me, but I wasn't about to complain. A couple people clapped when I was done, which made me happy, though I was still surprised I hadn't run into any writer's block during my telling of the tale. Perhaps the writing flood had just been building up and just poured out when I began speaking.

I had overexerted my social skills for the day, so I took off before the sisters were even both out the door. They found me later on, having claimed one of the beds and spread all four limbs and six wings out to cover it, though they couldn't see the wings. They didn't say anything, just moved the other bed over against it so that there was room for all three of us. I kept accidentally brushing the feathers of one of the wings over Sera's face and making her sneeze, but nobody mentioned it in the morning except for a slight wondering if Sera was getting sick.

We never did stop at a candy store.

"Can I come this time?" I was sitting up the moment I noticed them in suits, forgoing my attempt at returning to sleep, "I'm better than ever."

Cas paused in the buttoning of the overcoatish part before swiftly buttoning it up, "sure, I guess you can."

"Ooh, me and Gabe can go," Sera offered.

Cas gave us a doubtful look, "the two of you guys on a serious job?"

"We can be serious," Sera and I whined.

"Seriously annoying," my enhanced hearing heard her mutter, but she sighed in defeat, "fine, I'll stay and do research, text me if you find anything."

I grinned, leaping to the floor, "oh, wait, the hellhounds tore apart my suit."

"Good thing I picked you up a new one," Cas responded, as if she had been expecting the question, and she tossed me a suit to change into.

I may or may not have accidentally ruined the bathroom with my wings like I have every single time I use a motel bathroom.

Cas was used to this by now, sighing as she packed her laptop into a bag, "you know, maybe I'll do research at the library."

* * *

"Morning. Agent Pond and Williams," Sera greeted the cop at the crime scene, motioning first to herself and then to me.

"You Feds sure are on this like flies on crap," he grumbled, much grouchier about having Feds on the case than the last cop I had met, but he waved us through nonetheless and I held up the police tape for Sera before stepping under myself.

I could practically sense Sera's hesitation in the air at that response.

"They sent another team?" I pulled a bitch face, before glancing at the cop, "there's others here?"

"Yeah, agents Rogers and Barnes," the cop frowned before grinning, "what? The bureau have a mix up?"

"Probably," I huffed with an air of annoyance, "god, how many times do I have to complain about this before they stop mixing us up. I bet this is because they're still angry that I broke the coffee machine in the break room. Are they still here?"

"Yes, actually, over there," he waved towards two men talking to a different cop a little bit away near the body, which was under a sheet on the lake bank. I stiffened slightly as I recognized the two men from the diner, but luckily the cop didn't notice though he seemed a little bit friendlier now, "didn't think Feds could be that petty."

"Thank you," Sera nodded to the cop, leading the way over. Once we were out of earshot of the cop she muttered under her breath, "Rogers and Barnes? They have GOT to be Hunters; jeez, Marvel is our shtick."

I relaxed at that, since she's been doing this a lot longer than I have.

Further proof was added to the Hunter theory when they stiffened as we grew near.

"Agents Pond and Williams," I introduced, both of us flashing our badges to the cop, "I figured the bureau was done putting other people on my cases," I grumbled the last part out, "break the coffee machine one time."

"Do you mind if we talk to our colleagues for a second?" Sera asked the cop, who nodded and wandered off mumbling something.

I crouched down next to the body, moving the sheet to take a look at what we were working with. My stomach churned at the sight of the waterlogged body and I looked away before my gaze had gone past the bloody, mangled holes where the vic's eyes used to be. The bruise on the arm that was sticking out from under the sheet caught my gaze before I had to look away from it all.

"Did you do this?" the angry accusation coming from such a gruff voice took me off guard and my wings fluffed up as I stood up.

"They're Hunters," Sere clarified for me before giving the shorter of the two, really tall men a glare, "and don't you dare start accusing him. He's a Hunter too."

"That?" the shorter one raised an eyebrow, "that is an Archangel! I bet that story he pulled last night at the diner was how he possessed that poor sap."

"Gabriel doesn't even remember where he got his vessel," Sera scowled.

It seemed Sera had my back, so I merely focused on the job at hand, "ugh, I think I puked in my mouth.. his eyes are completely gone, eaten most likely," I gagged, cringing, "first of all, ewww. I think he got dragged into the water by something, according to the hand shaped bruise on his wrist. I... I literally have nothing. Should I text Cas?"

"Wait, Cas knows you're alive?" the tallest one here, the moose of a guy, moved a hand in front of his partner in a protective gesture, but I think he was just stopping him from doing something stupid.

"What?" I frowned at the guy, "of course, Cassandra knows I'm alive, when the hell did I di- wait, you know Cassandra?"

"No, he doesn't, because if he knew Cas, then I would know him," Sera crossed her arms, "this is our hunt now, get lost."

"Excuse me? Sorry, Princess, but we were here first."

"There is safety in numbers," I tried to play mediator, "personally, I welcome the help, I mean, we can get along and work together, right? I don't think we've been formally introduced: this is Sera and I am Jarvis."

"Gabriel," Sera corrected me.

"Gabriel, actually, I guess, apparently," I waved it off before holding my hand out.

They shared a very confused look. The tall one was the first to move, hesitating for a second before awkwardly reaching forward and shaking my hand, "uh... Sam.. and this is.. Dean."

I froze, my grip tightening on his hand, "Sam and Dean?"

"Yeah, you know that," Dean said as if I was dumb, glancing at my hand that was still locked onto Sam's, who was pulling at my grip in an attempt to get his hand back. I quickly let go.

"Wow... wow," I gaped, absolutely star struck, "as in... as in Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"They were one of the things I googled," I lied, but it was a very convincing lie in an excited tone, "I had a lot of free time after I got attacked by those hellhounds and I read the Supernatural series! I googled their first names since the last names weren't in the books and I googled some of their crimes with it. I did some more research, asked around, and what do you know! These two are the scariest, best Hunters in the Hunter community!"

"You googled us?"

"Yeah," I grinned, "how else would I have known about you guys?"

"I don't know, maybe you remember a certain campus?" Dean glared.

"Or when you killed Dean over and over in a nonstop Tuesday loop?" Sam's face fell into his signature bitch face.

"How about when you stuck us in a bunch of different universes?" Dean growled.

"You turned me into the impala!"

I stared at them, face horrified. Gabriel had done all that, hadn't he? I felt sick at the thought.

"Gabriel can hardly fly!" Sera gave them a flabbergasted look, "he can't do any of that shit! He cries every time he smites a demon!"

"What!? Oh, that's gold," Dean threw his hands up in anger, "what? He's been playing the innocent little harmless act for you and your buddy, obviously!"

"Excuse me!? Don't yell at my little cinnamon roll!"

"CINNAMON ROLL!?"

The sudden increase in temper and volume startled me and the windshield of a cop car a little bit aways broke into little pieces, the sound of its alarm blaring in the air. This made me jump, too.

"Great, you scared him!" Sera huffed.

"I scared him!?" Dean gave her the most irritated/confused/I-swear-to-god look that I have ever seen.

"I make things explode by accident," I admitted quietly.

"Oh," Sam's eyes went wide with realization, "Dean, it's like what happened to Cas!"

"Something happened to Cassandra?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "Cas as in Castiel. He's our friend, but he's an angel too. He uh.. he died after he absorbed a bunch of souls from purgatory. When he came back, he didn't remember anything. Meg was with him."

"Cas- uh, Cassandra and I found him working in some bar," Sera said, eager to accept this new theory, anything that would explain my 'amnesia', "he was calling himself Jarvis, but unlike Castiel he was all alone... and he, uh, was kind of living in a box. We didn't find out which one he was until after a lot of googling."

"You two are seriously going with this?" Dean gave them both a baffled look before huffing and reaching into his pocket, "whatever. I'm calling Cas, he'll probably want to know Gabriel is alive."


	8. Chapter 8

(I don't own this series. I must apologize beforehand, I have not yet seen season 12 so if there's any issues, I'm sorry)

The argument , finding out I'm alive, and 'oh-he's-a-little-cinnamon-roll' thing seemed to have soured Dean's mood, and eventually I just left the library because of the occasional glare he sent my way every few minutes. Sam glanced at me every now and then too, but I sensed only curiosity from his expression, unlike Dean's malice. The Winchesters were the only ones to bat an eye when I stepped out of the library; the Maples are used to my unexplained comings and goings, but Cassandra called something out before I was out the doors.

"Be careful this time!"

I gave her a nod before walking into the murky darkness, which was permeated by streetlights. The moon was mostly absent, clouds covering it but not threatening with rain. The air was crisp, and I was relieved as I breathed it in, feeling it going through my lungs. I stretched my wings out, relishing not being in cramped quarters anymore, before folding them against my back. The feathers that had been burned were still black, which probably meant they were going to stay black; I guess wings don't react well to fire.

It didn't take me long to reach the road across from the lake where the body had been found. Further examination -by the Winchesters- had gathered more evidence in that it wasn't just the eyes that had been taken. It must have been desperate while it got to the eyes, since it seemed to have calmed down afterward, taking the nails and teeth with the utmost clean precision.

It was while I was walking that I heard the cry of an infant. It was urgent, and grabbed my attention immediately. I took off in the direction of the cries without a second thought, ducking under the police tape that was encircled around the entire lake and the surrounding area. A car's headlights washed over me just as I was moving through the trees and underbrush that were in my way. Finally, I reached the bank, looking all around for the abandoned infant, furious at whoever would have left a baby in such an area.

But the cries had silenced, making me fear the worse. I stopped my breathing and listened for even the slightest heartbeat.

Something moved in the bushes, a strong, excited heartbeat rising from it. I glanced over at the location, frozen, waiting.

Something black and swift broke out, a long tail lashing out at me. I felt a strong hand gain a death grip on my wrist and I was pulled off my feet as the monester dove into the water. I was instantly soaked as I was dragged right in after it, mouth opening in a startled cry. I didn't even have time to make so much as a peep before water was gushing down my throat and into my lungs. The grip only seemed to grow tighter on my wrist as it dragged my writhing form below the surface, deeper and deeper.

Perhaps I should stop going outside in general if this is how my luck is going to keep going.

I grabbed onto the arm... only to realize it wasn't an arm. This thing had a hand on the end of its long, slimy tail. It felt like there was moss on it, or maybe it was just slick from the water all around us. Up ahead, a spiky, dog-like form swam deeper and deeper into the lake.

I tried to grab onto the tail once more to try and pull myself towards it, but my hand just slid down it again. The time for thought was over; time for reaction. I grabbed onto the base of the tail wrist and squeezed with all the power in my Archangel body. The hand went limp as I pulverized bone into ash and it was the creature's turn to writhe and squirm. Sharp teeth dug into my arm as it whipped around for revenge.

It got one glance at my wings and let go, retreating like hell into the darkness all around us. I tried to swim upwards, but my hands brushed the bottom of the lake, so I changed direction and tried again, using my wings to speed through the water. When I finally reached a bank, I climbed from the icy waters into even colder air.

Which is where I got to experience the horrible, excruciating feeling of replacing all the water in my lungs -which was a lot of water, practically nothing but water- with air.

I crawled higher up onto the bank before dropping onto my chest, giving myself a second to find my composure. I saw two, large forms walking along the bank and pier on the other side of the lake around where I think I got dragged in. I really didn't want to deal with whatever kind of thing those were, -best case scenario, rebellious teenagers who think they're cool endangering a crime scene- so I got up, shaking and trembling, teeth chattering, feeling like my wings were freezing off of my body, and moved through the underbrush. I have never had a good sense of direction, and I haven't been on this side of the lake before. I tried to remember where I was supposed to go, but I was so cold I couldn't form a comprehensive thought.

I reached a road and followed it.

I was hugging myself but it didn't make me feel any warmer, and my wings trembled on my back. I found myself walking along a boulevard, the trees on either side of e street looking like giant monsters in the darkness. It was while I was passing a particularly expensive looking, huge white marble house, a man about my vessel's appearance age, his eyes and hair as golden as my feathers, called out to me as he closed the mailbox that stood at the end of his long, windy driveway.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes! I haven't seen you in an eternity," his grin was dazzling and kind of hard to focus on, like the sun.

"Do I know you?" I asked, pulling my soaking wings closer.

"You are shivering like a chihuahua," he tsked instead, turning and starting up his long driveway, "come on, Lokes, we can get you dried up. Or..." he glanced back with a charming grin, "... should I call you Gabriel?"

I was still confused, but the man was practically emitting warmth like a forge and I found myself following after him. After all, what could a mortal do to me? Plus he was rich, so maybe I could get some free food or something. I wasn't sure if he's met me before or -and this was a real big if- if he had known Gabriel.

The house was even more impressive close up, looking like a castle with its Greek columns and fancy, swirling gold designs. There was a fancy symbol over the doorway, which seemed to be made from pure gold.

So make that a really rich guy.

His house was warm, and even cooler inside, with a lot of game systems hooked up in the living room that was larger than my old house. Hell, the guy even had arcade games that you didn't need to put quarters in. The walls were all a glowing white, with flecks of gold which I noticed when I glanced at one close to me; the ceilings had various murals on them where there was room between the millions of skylights. It was the first place where I didn't feel even the slightest hint of the claustrophobia that has haunted me since becoming Gabriel. I even had a chance to stretch my wings out in the living room, it was so big, before I followed the man into the hall. Any possible hesitation was taken away by the feeling of warmth and safety.

The hall we passed through was lined with weapons and various items, all in glass clases like trophies, though I saw a couple weapons that weren't in cases, looking as if they were out in case of an attack. Maybe he was paranoid.

There were a lot of statues, too.

"Did you know," he said when he noticed me admiring a statue of a colorful snake thing, "that unpainted statues were considered ugly? The paint wore off over the years, so that's why the statues are all just white. I make sure to keep mine in mint condition."

"Y-Yeah, I-I th-think I read that once," I said through chattering teeth.

I followed him into a large, marble counter kitchen. It looked like something a billionaire's mansion would have for a kitchen and my gaze immediately focused on the two pies cooling on one of the counters alongside a tray of cookies.

"Here," I barely turned in time to catch the towels that was thrown at me, "I would snap my fingers and just make you dry, but that's Poseidon's domain, not mine."

I nodded, but I was too cold and wet to feel wary as I wrapped the towel around my shoulders; the towel felt as if it had just come out of the dryer.

"Hmm," he glanced down one of the halls and pointed, "uh, bathroom door at the end of the hallway, there's dry clothes you can change into. Take a shower first, you're tracking mud."

I nodded again, heading down said hall. I couldn't help the gasp of awe when I opened the door to the bathroom. It was the fanciest, perfectly sized bathroom I've ever seen. I could turn in a circle and not run my wings into anything! The door shut without sound, perfectly oiled and new.

The shower was large enough for me to spread my wings out a bit, multiple shower heads blasting water at me at the perfect temperature. My teeth even stopped chattering and my wings stopped shivering after a while.

True to the pretty stranger's word, there was a set of clothes on the counter. They were jimjams, a green top with gold jimjam pants that fit perfectly and also seemed to have come straight from the dryer; there was a little chibi marvel Loki on the front of the green jimjam shirt, which I found kind of amusing. I was so comfortable I probably could have happily just taken a nap right then and there, but I headed out of the bathroom once I was dressed, toes kneading the red carpet of pure heaven that I walked over as I returned to the kitchen, feeling happy enough to purr like a cat (I didn't, I swear).

The stranger smiled at me as I came in and he motioned for me to take a seat at the counter, which I did; he seemed slightly troubled, but it was gone so quickly that I wondered if I had imagined it.

"Here," he handed me a cup full of a strange, golden liquid; I took a small sip of it, not entirely paranoid-free, but the returning paranoia dissipated the second the delicious drink hit my tongue and I found myself gulping it down.

"I made cookies and pie," he informed me, setting two places down at the counter, one in front of me and the other across from me, an entire pie for each of us and splitting the cookies, "I know how you tricksters need sugar and the such. Go on, dig in; I made them with ambrosia and nectar."

"Nectar?"

"Well, yeah," he beamed, and I glanced down at the pie because his grin was so bright and I have a hard time making eye contact with people, "what do you think you just drank? Food and drink of the gods," he glanced at me before adding on, "of course, you were never really a god were you?"

"You mean pagans?" I finally realized.

"Yeah," he bit into a forkful of his pie, "mmmm, never gets old, I love this stuff. Try it, it is the **best** pie you've ever tasted."

Curious now, I picked up the fork (when did that get put there?) and stared at the pie; do I cut it into slices or do I dig into the middle of it like the other guy did? "Wait, you're a pagan!"

"Noooo," he rolled his eyes sarcastically, "come on, you were a clever Norse, just now figuring this out?"

I couldn't stop the glare I sent his way.

He merely snorted at it, "I talked to the Fates a couple months ago, heard about your... unfortunate circumstances. Amnesia, that's gotta suck."

I was feeling a bit wary again and my mind wandered to my Hunters. They were probably worried, but he was eyeing me since I had yet to try the pie I had been given, so I politely copied his example by taking a forkful right from the middle. True to his word, again, it was the best pie I have ever tasted. Imagine the best thing you have ever eaten and multiply it by a thousand, "Oh. My. God."

"Right?" he grinned again, but it seemed my eyes had adjusted to the brightness of it by now, "I was going to make a cake, but you showed up too soon; I expected that ahuizotl to take up more of your time, but you made up for it by how slow you walked. The Aztecs used to be terrified of those things; did you know they're from Mexico? I think those Hunters should have taken care of it by now, good on them as long as they stay well away from me, you know what I mean?"

"A cake?" I had only been half-listening since I was completely focused on the food so it was the only word I heard.

"A really big cake. I was going to see if Dionysus could come. Man, that guy can party but he can tend to keep all the fun for himself at times. I figured it would be best if it was only a small occasion, since I put a lot of work into this place. Don't want it to get too messy or anything too hard to clean up, you know? That's why I chose such dark furniture."

"Hmm?" I glanced up from the pie but he didn't repeat what he had said so I just turned my attention back on the pie.

Man, I love pie.


	9. Chapter 9

(I don't own this series)

I don't remember falling asleep, but I found myself waking up in the largest bed I have ever seen, my wings spread out comfortably and dipping off the edge of the bed. I sat up, confused and lost, but then I sneezed and the confusion was replaced with irritation as I remembered last night's swim; stupid thing must have given me some sort of angel cold via my wings.

I also remembered eating pie with a pagan- oh my god, I'm still at the pagan's mansion!? Cas and Sera are probably so worried and I still have to mend things with the Winchesters! Oh, Cas is gonna be so pissed!

I scrambled up out of the bed but a wave of nausea hit me for the first time in a long, long time and my mouth watered. I grabbed onto my wrist and closed my eyes, fighting it down, before stumbling down the hall with no idea where I even was in this place. I eventually smelled food, so I followed it, soon hearing the sound of somebody humming. Coupled with the smell of food, it may have well have been the humming of an angel, though I assume it to be the pagan.

"Morning," he glanced over at me before moving over to the counter, leaving the pancake pan to flip itself, "ooh, looks like your little ice night didn't do miracles for you. Here, have some soup, it will help with making you feel better. Trust me, I know it will, I made it myself."

I stared forlornly at the chicken noodle soup he placed on the counter, "I can't taste stuff not coated in sugar and/or caffeine."

"Ah," he smirked, throwing something at me that I was barely awake enough to catch, "yeah, you got that whole trickster thing going for you, so that's why you can taste that stuff and not anything else, you can thank being an Archangel for that, pagans have the same problem. Don't worry, that's what that's for."

I stared at the item I had caught, some sort of golden spice container like a wide vial, "spices?"

"Greek family secret," he replied, "has ambrosia in it, of course; sprinkle it on the thing you're about to eat and bam! Flavor city! All you need is a pinch of it, as if you're feeding a goldfish."

I followed his instructions, sprinkling some on the soup before picking up the spoon that appeared and mixing it, just in case, before getting a spoonful of the soup. I gave it a doubtful look before eating.

The wonderful taste of chicken noodle soup filled my mouth and I nearly fell from my chair before I dug in as if it would disappear, simultaneously trying not to eat too fast and to make sure I wasn't eating like a hog. The pagan didn't seem to care how things were eaten though, because he took a pancake right from the pan, sprinkling some ambrosia seasoning on it before he stuffed the whole -probably hot as hell- thing into his mouth.

"Do you make this yourself?" I gave a sad glance at my now empty bowl -I couldn't help myself, it was good and it took the edge off my stomachache- before I motioned to the seasoning.

"I think Hermes picked it up from somebody," the pagan shrugged, "ever since his Mercury personality got iced he's been working double time trying to gain everybody's trust back after betraying the others to your brother, the one who iced you and basically all but Kali, which is due to you, the Kali being alive thing, I mean. He's stopped asking for sacrifices and started asking for other things for payment, like demons, since he's a little ticked about losing his Mercury part and is going after demons for his own petty revenge. One," he shook the small container of seasoning he had, "per demon iced."

"I'm good at icing demons," I perked up; anything for this miracle worker of a seasoning, "how is he contacted?"

"Let me see your phone," he said, and I happily handed it over. He turned around to mess with it and I glanced at my bowl. Would it be rude to ask for more?

"Here you go," he said, handing it back, and I got out a thank you before putting the phone back in my pocket, "all you have to do is go to the contact that says Hermes and call it. It won't ring or anything, but he'll even replace the body with some seasoning so you don't even need to clean it up, maybe he'll even say hi and show up himself if he has time, since he's a busy guy being the messenger of Olympus and all."

"Are you a Greek pagan? Oh, thanks," I asked, saying thank you as he put a plate of pancakes down before me. I didn't feel nauseous anymore, so I happily reached for the ambrosia seasoning.

"You really haven't figured out who I am yet?" he grinned before letting out a laugh, "huh, that's okay, I guess. You'll get it eventually, let's see how long it takes."

"I don't like guessing games," I frowned before gleefully sprinkling some seasoning onto the pancakes before drowning them in syrup.

"Hmm," he was smiling slightly as he turned around, his back to me now, "you never did."

"Did I know you?" I paused to enjoy the bite of pancake that I stuffed in my mouth, having to stop myself from shoving the whole thing in my mouth like he had, "I mean, before, well, you know."

"For a while, but Greeks are supposed to keep their distance from other pagans that aren't from Greek mythology, especially the Christians' creatures. Well, I guess I should say, we **were** supposed to keep our distance. Zeus hasn't reformed yet, so he's technically currently dead, hopefully for a long, long time. Olympus is in chaos, everybody trying to figure out who is in charge until he comes back."

"Zeus can come back from being dead?" I glanced up from my pancakes.

"Pagans with enough believers can fight their way out of Tartarus, at least that's what us Greeks call it. Personally, I hope he runs into Kronos. Ever since Rick Riordan started that series of his, a lot of pagans have gotten huge boosts."

"I'm guessing you don't like him much, Zeus, I mean?"

"He's a worse dad than yours, and you've complained about yours enough for me to compare them," the pagan huffed before snapping his fingers, and I watched in amazement as the silverware and empty dishes went and started to wash, dry, and put away themselves, "I'm surprised Artemis iced him, though, since my sister has always been his favorite. He did not have the same sentiment towards me."

"Wait, you're Apollo?"

"Guilty," he grinned again before letting it fall, though his eyes were still bright. He left the kitchen right about then so I got up and followed, "took you long enough. Though I'm not quite as full of myself as everybody seems to believe. You want to see somebody full of themselves you should see Aphrodite. I mean, I'm obviously the best looking one, but she seems to think she's hotter than the sun? Please! The earth revolves around me!"

"Not full of yourself, right," I muttered.

"When my family gets bent up about something, I find it best to stay out of the way because they will lash out. Somebody raises their voice in Olympus, you check to see if they're bigger than you because if they are a bigger fish then you need to get the hell out of dodge before they decide to take it out on you."

"I thought they took things out on mortals?"

"You think Zeus ever cared who was in his way?" Apollo's expression grew dark before he fell back into his easygoing manner, leaping over a huge couch and bouncing slightly into a seated position on the other side, "survival, hard mode?"

"What?"

He snapped his fingers and a controller appeared in my hands; I almost dropped it.

"Survival?"

"Uh..."

"So that's a yes, unless you want to play Skyrim or something, but you like Monecraft, right? I have more than one tv and game systems."

"I should really be going-"

He looked me right in the eye, "but you're too sick to travel right now."

I sneezed, cringing, having to fight back a sudden wave of nausea; I sat down on the couch next to him as he snapped his fingers and the game system turned on, "I guess playing for a little bit wouldn't hurt."

"That's the spirit!"

* * *

It was this moment where I discovered how wonderful it is that I don't actually **need** sleep and just how wonderful video games are. We played video games all day, all night, and did it again the next day. It was on the third day that we were broken out of our video game stupor around noon by the ring of the doorbell. Apollo stiffened, telling me to cover him while he went to see who was at the door; I swiveled my character back around, taking this new mission quite seriously as I mowed down enemies as Piers Nivans to protect Chris now that he was motionless, nobody at the controls.

My curiosity did peak about who may be at the door when I heard it open and I almost messed up, one of the grenades I threw upon running out of ammo exploding a bit too close to my character and my character was soon left grappling with one of them while his ears rang because I was preoccupied with wondering who the hell would make a trek all the way up Apollo's driveway. The game was really loud, so I walked over to turn it down -Apollo has pagan powers so he doesn't really need a remote- and scurried back to my seat before I was caught messing with the sound.

He'd taken his remote with him, so I couldn't exactly move his character to a safe place, which left me covering him. I tilted my head to pick up more sound with my enhanced Archangel hearing, but I couldn't hear any of he conversation since the living room isn't close to the door so I assumed it was Girl Scout cookies or something, so he'd better come back with food. Mmmm, food. The second all these guys in the game are dead or we're in a safe spot maybe I'll casually mention food, maybe pizza. Ooh! How about Chinese food! With the seasoning, I'll actually be able to taste it!

Then my ears picked something up just as I heard Apollo close the door; I heard the familiar, unmistakable sound of the Charger starting up. I scrambled to my feet and ran to find a window, but they seemed to have all disappeared except for the skylights; from the living room, Chris screamed as Piers was dragged down.

"I told you to cover me."

I jumped, turning around with a guilty expression, "sorry, I thought I heard something."

It seemed whatever I had caught a couple nights ago was making a reappearance because I almost crumpled right then and there as my head spun and nausea took over my gut.

"I told you that you're too sick to be up and about," Apollo looked me right in the eye before shaking his head, "it will only get worse if you're up and walking around."

I felt like I would probably puke if I even thought about answering out loud so I just nodded my head and he helped me, letting me lean on him as he helped me towards the room I had woken up in a couple nights ago. I curled up in a ball on top of the bed the second I was laying on it, my trembling wings wrapped around myself like a safety blanket. I really miss Cas and Sera.

Apollo pulled up a chair next to the bed and left.

My wings were freezing, so I made them visible just for the sake of the warmth, even if it was uncomfortable. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, planning on calling Cas, just to let her know I was okay and was healing up from some sort of flu or something at a pagan's place, but about then Apollo came back and he handed me a glass of nectar, silently taking the phone from me so I could drink it. I didn't see where he put it, but I couldn't find it in me to care as I downed the drink. Apollo said nothing about my wings, but I felt him run his hand along one of the feathers on one of the wings of the top two after I had curled back up, hidden under my wings. He ran his fingers across the span of the wings, finding a loose one and working it free before settling back in his chair.

"Why you lettin me stay?" I mumbled through a faceful of golden feathers.

"Us pagans gotta stick together right?"

I grumbled out an 'I guess so' and went back to using the wing I had tucked under my head as a pillow, "you've got that whole prophecy thing right? When am I healthy enough to leave?"

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "the whole prophecy stuff comes and goes, it's a difficult thing to have. The future is never set in stone."

"Most probable?"

"...Well, it's hard to guess for an Archangel. You should sleep, maybe it will help."

I was going to object, but he started to hum something and I felt myself growing drowsy.


	10. Chapter 10

(I don't own this series)

...

...

 **I was petrified and in pain** **, but it didn't stop me from giving my aunt an angry glare. She punched me for it. I didn't care; I spit at her feet, grinning when she jumped back to avoid getting spit on, "what's this all about, Auntie Dearest?"**

 **She grinned at me, "why do you think, Gabriel?"**

 **"I hate guessing games, Amara," I scowled, "why did you bring me back?"**

 **"So my brother can't have you," she rolled her eyes as if it was obvious, "he already has Lucifer, I'm not going to let him bring back his archangels to defeat me. I've worked too hard for this."**

 **There we go. Information.**

 **I eyed her warily as she stepped forward, towards me, and reached her hand out.**

 **I stiffened and flinched, but she merely grinned as she caressed my cheek, pinching it before she let go, "my dearest nephew, you don't honestly think I'm keeping you here for kicks?"**

 **I stared at her, courage failing now that she was so close.**

 **She moved her hand up my face, towards my temple, "now let's make sure my brother couldn't use you even if he found you."**

 **The windows shattered from my screams.**

...

...

I woke up with the start of a scream

The room had been torn apart, the nightstand and dresser and chair having been shattered with so much force that there were pieces of wood embedded in the walls. Glass littered the room, a breeze circling through the room from the broken skylight above. I was breathing heavily, confused and terrified. What had I just seen? Was that one of Gabriel's memories? Or mine? He'd held himself the same way I remember from the show. There was a gap in my memories from before, before I woke up in the alley, and I was scared to find that I could no longer remember the names or faces of my foster family and couldn't even remember what breed my dog had been.

My wings were still visible and felt like they were burning, so I let them go back to normal, visible only to me at the moment, and breathed a sigh of relief as the pain faded. I stumbled down the hall, but I couldn't smell any food cooking today. It seemed the only positive was that I didn't feel sick anymore.

There was a newcomer sitting in my spot at the kitchen counter, arguing with Apollo, but they both silenced as I walked in.

The newcomer was dressed like he'd just stepped out of a Hell's Angels style biker gang, his leather jacket looking nothing less than real. His eyes were covered by a pair of shades, and an eyebrow raised in judgement as he stared at me.

"I didn't expect you to be up so soon," Apollo said, surprise flickering across his face. He seemed to be nursing his right hand, and I could see a third degree burn spread out on his palm when he moved away towards the fridge, "I'll get some nectar for you, it will wake you right up."

"I'm not thirsty," the words came out before I realized I was even saying them, sharper than a dagger.

He froze before slowly closing the fridge.

The biker guy stood up from the stool he was sitting on, towering over me; it seemed he was as much as a moose as Sam, maybe even a bit larger, which I hadn't thought possible, and looked like he was pure muscle. I didn't back down, angrily looking him right in the eyes. Finally he laughed, clapping me on the shoulder and honestly scaring the daylights out of me -that had been false bravado on my behalf, of course- and grinned a wolffish grin, "got a lot a spunk in a little package, kid."

"I'm not a kid," I huffed, a bit annoyed at the assumption, "I can bet a million dollars that I'm way older than you."

"You'd rather I call you old man, then?"

I glared at him.

"Kid it is, then," he decided, sitting back down and gesturing to a seat, "take a load off."

I sat down after a moment, "are you a pagan too?"

He leaned forward, uncomfortably close, making me lean back. Finally he grinned and leaned back to his former position, "so you really are lacking some of the pages in your book, aren't you?"

"Uncalled for," Apollo glanced at him, "they're there, just... like, uh, invisible ink. They're there, still, just undreadable currently with pages from somebody else's book glued haphazardly into it."

"What?" I stared right at him.

He held up his burnt hand, guilt on his face, "I... was curious."

As if sensing my confusion, the biker guy decided to speak up, "metaphorically put, Apollo tried to flip through that book and got a huge ass paper cut right on the web that connects the thumb to the beginning of the pointer finger."

"You went through my head!?"

"I was trying to help," he said.

"By going through my head?"

"No need to get all bristled up," the biker guy huffed, "everybody slow your fucking roll. Apollo and I were just talking about this a bit ago before we changed topics."

I grumbled, but for the first time since coming here I sat on the edge of my seat, tense and ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Does the name Amara mean anything to you?" Apollo was fidgeting with his hands, eventually just turning and glancing through the kitchen window that definitely hadn't been there yesterday, paranoia written across his face.

"I... since last night, yes," I decided honesty would earn me more information, "the darkness; she's my aunt."

Apollo nodded, "yeah, let me tell you it was a real treat finding out your father is back from hiatus."

"Get to the good part," the biker guy snapped impatiently.

Apollo nodded, "Gabriel... how do I put this? I think Amara is the one who brought you back," he glanced around as if the saying of her name would make her appear and slaughter us all, "she did something to your head. I tried to check out the lock she had on your actual memories, but..."

I stared at him.

He held up his burnt hand for a moment before letting it drop, " the lock fought back the second I touched it, but I think I may have rusted it a little, metaphorically speaking. And I also found out that she severely fucked you up, I'm talking tried to change your personality, implanted fake memories fucked up. To be honest I think she was doing everything she could to make you as useless as possible even if your father tried to get your help in fighting her, I'm not sure he even knows that you're alive yet."

I stared at him, speechless.

"I may have accidentally crushed a lot of the fake memories when you started freaking out," he admitted after an awkward moment of silence."

I stood up, turned around, and started walking away.

"Gabriel? Hey! Loki!"

* * *

I locked myself in a closet. Shame on me for not knowing how to deal with discovering my whole life has been a lie. Like everything I can't deal with, I'm going to take a whole big helping of denial and I'm going to live in denial fucking mountain.

I could hear them calling for me as they roamed the mansion, but I stayed in the closet.

"You should have just kept it sick!" the biker guy was quick to explode, "I told you to keep it compliant, but you just can't fucking listen to anybody can you!? Let's all be fucking friends! You couldn't even drug it right!"

My eyes narrowed and I heard a window shatter outside the closet.

"... it's close."

"Just give him time to calm down," Apollo pleaded, "he'll come out, I promise."

"How the hell are we going to overthrow Zeus without it!?"

"Stop calling him an it!" I heard Apollo finally snap back at him, "he was our friend once, Ares!"

"And now he's as useless to us as he is to God!"

It had worked in making him stop calling me an it.

"You know what? I don't want to do this anymore," Apollo said, "take your uprising somewhere else!"

"You don't want to do this anymore? Oh, poor little Apollo," Ares mocked before snarling, "well too bad! If you or him takes one step out of this house Zeus will know you disobeyed him in an instant! You're a dead man if you back out of this, and if you back out of this I swear I'll tell Zeus you were shagging an Archangel! How do you think he'd react to that!?"

"How do you think Zeus would react to you lying to his face?" Apollo snarled back.

"Who do you think he'd believe?" Ares said gleefully, "if you recall, your sister killed him and sent him to Tartarus and it took him a long, long time to get out of there, Apollo, and he's just begging for a new punching bag, extra points if it's his least favorite kid who happens to be the twin of the daughter who killed him. He wouldn't hurt his dear little Artemis, but you? Oh, it's his favorite fucking activity!"

I didn't like the yelling. It made familiar voices rage in my head, battle cries of two brothers ringing in my ears. I closed my eyes tightly and let out a shaky breath. Outside the closet, it went silent, and then the doorknob started to turn.

"I heard something fall in the kitchen, I think he went back to his room," Apollo said, and the doorknob stopped turning.

All I heard was the stomping of the war pagan's feet as he left the room.

I looked up as the closet door opened; Apollo crouched down to my eye level, guilt on his face, "I am so sorry, Lok- Gabriel."

"I thought Zeus was still dead," I said quietly instead.

Apollo covered his mouth with his hand like someone trying to decide what to do next, looking away before finally looking back at me, "... I got out of Tartarus about-about a month ago... I hadn't run into Zeus, so I was surprised to find out Artemis had iced him. He took less time to get out than I did. It took me a hundred years to get out of Tartarus, after I died a hundred years ago. But... you probably don't remember why I was in there anyway."

I shook my head.

"We were friends, when you were masquerading as Loki and everybody thought you were a pagan. It was you, me, Ares, Kali, and occasionally other pagans hung out with us. You were really pissed when Zeus kept hitting on Kali, even when she told him to stop, and instead of letting her handle it herself like you knew she could, you decided that the best course of action was to take revenge, serve out that cruel justice to Zeus like you always do to mortals," he grinned sadly, "other pagans wanted to help, but Ares and I were the only Greek ones to show up at the little pagan meeting you called to plan it out. Zeus found out and showed up with Artemis and some loyal Greek pagans. He declared the segregation-like law that Greek pagans can no longer mingle with other pagans and killed me to make a point. Apparently he didn't kill Ares, but he didn't exactly make life easy for Ares either."

I didn't respond, so he took this as a go on and continue.

"It was Ares who came up with the idea after I saw you walking outside my house. I really did want to help you, I swear, but Ares was very," he winced, "persuasive, and his punches kind of hurt... a lot... especially if he socks you in the jaw. So, after you fell asleep I..." he mimed snapping his fingers, "...made you sick."

"How nice of you," I said sarcastically.

"Your friends showed up looking for you yesterday" he admitted, as if what I've learned today hasn't already given him and Ares asshole of the year awards, "they had the Winchesters with them and I kind of freaked and slammed the door shut after they asked me about you and I told them I didn't know what they were talking about. That's when I wanted to back out, but I didn't want to say so to Ares, but I guess I kind of did just a little bit ago."

"I'm going to tell Zeus that you're shagging an archangel," I angrily mocked what Ares had said before scowling, "yeah, I heard. And thanks for letting me know you kidnapped me, that would have been more fun to know than to not know and feel like I was going to barf out my guts. What kind of moron doesn't even realize they've been kidnapped? Let me guess, that monster in the lake was just a trick to get me here?"

"No, that was already here," Apollo said, "and, yes, I did drug your nectar, but only when you started wanting to leave because you were worried about those Hunters."

The sound of boots storming towards the room was a sound I heard first; Apollo went pale when he heard it and he hurriedly pulled me out of the closet and hissed to me, "just play it cool, okay? Please?"

"Go to hell," I growled.

The door slammed open and I jumped, startled, putting a confused look on my face. Apollo had already let go, easygoing expression back on his face, "hey, Ares, what did I tell you? He walked in here a little bit ago asking for food."

"Can we have Chinese?" I asked Ares innocently, playing the act of the unknowing kidnappee.

He gave me a grin, his act back in place as he figured I was still not in on it, "sure, I can go get take out. What do you want?"

I beamed, "aw man, this is gonna be awesome, I haven't had Chinese in forever!" How about a carton of fuck you with a side of backstabbing asshole, President Shoefucker of Asstown, "uh, pork fried rice and sweet and sour chicken with soy sauce and a lot of fortune cookies?"

"Sure," he said cheerfully, eyes focusing sharply on Apollo and a cruel smirk blooming on his face, "Apollo?"

"Same," Apollo said, eyes narrowing only slightly, but I pretended not to notice.

"Hey, can we play Minecraft?" I asked Apollo as Ares began to leave.

"Sure," he replied.

I'm going to blow up everything you've created on that game, Vice President Shoefucker.

* * *

Tssssss.

Pwboosh!

I then mimicked the call of full grown wild moose to signal my victory as I led yet another creeper to Apollo's minecraft house and made it explode right next to it.

"Loki, that is literally the thirtieth creeper you bombed my house with."

"HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" I mimicked the call of a full grown I don't give a flying fuck.

"Maybe we should play a different game, how about Halo?"

* * *

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KEEP DOING THAT!? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU CAMPING!?"

"SQQQQQQUUUUUUUAAAAAAWWWWWKKKKKK!" I sniped him. Bam! Headshot to the backstabbing son of a bitch! I then proceeded to mimic the mating call of a full grown male blue whale, followed by the chatter of a squirrel.

"I TOLD YOU I'M SORRY!"

"HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

(This will probably be the last update for a while because I'm grounded again, will update again ASAP)


	11. Chapter 11

(I don't own this series)

Ares left after the Chinese food had all been eaten.

Now that I had stopped drinking the drugged nectar, things were becoming more and more clear to me. I missed Cas and Sera terribly and spent most of my time staring longingly at the sky through the skylights. It didn't seem so awesome now that it was starting to feel like a prison. It seemed I wasn't the only one not being used to being stuck inside for this long, because Apollo often joined me in staring out of the windows like we were in a sad music video.

And it's only been one day since I discovered I've been kidnapped this entire time.

"Ares wants me to make you not useless," Apollo finally broke the silence as the sun sank below the horizon.

"HRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

"Stop doing that!"

I made a moose call.

"I don't understand how that is supposed to get back at me for lying to-"

"-And drugging."

He sighed, "-and drugging you."

I chattered like a squirrel.

"Anyways, I have to see if I can smuggle power memories out of your locked memories."

I gave him the finger.

"You were so much nicer a couple days ago."

"Yeah, too bad you sat on the memories that you can thank for that."

"The various changes Amara made are still at work," Apollo said in disagreement, "I think you're just pissed at me."

"No shit, Sherlock!" I snapped before looking him right in the eye and making another moose noise.

"Why do you keep making those noises!?"

"The graceful moose and grumpy squirrel," I said, following it up by a moose call with an encore of squirrel chatter, "I'm summoning the Winchesters by mimicking their natural calls so they can come gank yo ass."

He stared at me before huffing in defeat, "look, if it was up to me, you would have been home a long time ago. Zeus is a bigger fish and Ares is a fish that can put me on that big fish's lunch order."

It made sense, but I ignored him.

If I could fight, I could get out of here. I could go home. Home to my Hunters.

I took a deep breath before turning around, "what exactly would this involve?"

"I'm not sure, exactly," Apollo looked about as excited about the idea of digging through my mind as I was about him digging through my mind, "Amara might as well be the biggest shark to ever swim among the fish aside from your father. I'm talking the orchestra compared to a single triangle. I can hit at it, but I'm not sure what kind of defenses the lock has."

I took a deep breath before nodding, "okay, let's give it a whirl."

"Really?" he didn't seem excited that I had agreed, "um, okay, then let's use a side room, because I really don't want all my video games to explode."

* * *

He wasn't amused by my inappropriate comments as he tied me down, giving me a glare, "not in the mood, Loki."

"You know, when I signaled fuck you, I meant it to be rhetorical"

"Will you stop?"

"Bite me."

"Maybe later."

I was flabbergasted, not having expected him to actually respond as such since I was just trying to get on his nerves in retaliation.

"Look, stop calling it kinky, I just don't want you destroying everything again like you did last time."

"The Grace acts out, the Grace acts out," I shrugged, "not my problem."

"It is your problem," Apollo responded, "it's your Grace, your responsibility."

I pulled at the golden metal trapping me to the bed, surprised when it didn't break.

"Celestial gold, not even an Archangel is breaking free from it," Apollo explained, glancing mournfully at his still burnt hand before taking a deep breath and covering my eyes with his hand, "don't worry, this will be a horrible experience for both of us."

"Wh-"

...

...

 **"They're soldiers!"**

 **"They're children!" I practically screamed at my older sibling, "most cannot even control their Grace yet! Let them be children! Just because we couldn't-"**

 **"Then it is your job to teach them how to control it and use it to fight!" Michael yelled at me, giving me a rage fueled look of disappointment, "when the Apocalypse comes to pass and I defeat Lucifer, I will need soldiers."**

 **"Please, Michael," I begged, "we have time, so much time. Why do we even need to fight Lucifer? Why can't we just be a family again?"**

 **Michael slapped me across the face, hard enough to burn, and screamed at me to get out of sight. It was about then that I realized that it was over. This wasn't the Heaven I grew up in. This wasn't home, not anymore.**

 **I felt my face contort into one of betrayal, but I don't think Michael ever cared what look was on my face the last time we spoke and** **I don't think Michael ever stopped to remember the last thing I said.**

 **The door to the room where my charges slept made hardly a sound when I opened it and Castiel hardly roused when I picked the tiny angel up, stroking the little angel's raven feathered wings. If I was leaving Heaven then I sure as Hell was taking something with me. I stared guiltily at my other charges, but I was already making a risk stealing one of Heaven's angels away with me, and though it pained me greatly leaving them to their bleak fate, there was nothing I could do. I suppose trying to take Castiel with me wasn't completely out of the kindness of my heart; I was really terrified of the idea of being alone.**

 **Even so, I didn't make it very far with the sleeping angel in my arms and I had to leave Castiel behind. I had no choice.**

 **I couldn't bear another second in Heaven.**

 **...**

 **...**

My face was soaked with tears and the windows and skylights in the room had shattered. Having Apollo messing with my brain book hurt like Hell. He was cradling his hand, taking deep breaths through the pain, though probably having an easier time of it than I was. I was actually glad for the celestial gold that I was using to brace myself as Apollo put his hand back over my eyes.

...

...

 **It took me a hundred years to finally find the perfect vessel for me after spending the last couple ages skipping through the family line of a family line that started out as a small tribe in the ice ages that rose to royalty, lost their status in an uprising, and fell to obscurity. My actual, true vessel came in the form of a street urchin who was much too easy to talk into a deal for his body as my vessel. I kept my end of the bargain, but as soon as I had accomplished my end, I left.**

 **I was so lonely that I finally contacted the pagans, creatures that all of Heaven looked down upon even more than they looked down on humans. The Norse ones were the ones who took me in and I lied to them, falling into the role of a pagan who called himself Loki.**

 **The trickster God.**

 **But I still felt a little lonely.**

 **...**

 **...**

I was soaked in sweat, which was kind of gross and kind of weird since I shouldn't be able to sweat. Apollo was shaking his hand, which was starting to smoke, but after a minute he tried again.

...

...

 **"Dad?" I stared at my Father as he stuffed some of his things in a bag, which he had created a little bit ago, "Dad, where are you going?"**

 **He jumped, slightly, probably expecting me to still be in the Garden, and he gave me a slight smile, "oh, hey, Gabriel, why aren't you in the Garden with the other archangels?"**

 **I stared at him instead, "are you going somewhere?"**

 **"Yeah, just for a little bit," he replied, "I'll be back before you know it."**

 **"Okay," I nodded, believing him, trusting him; after all, why would I doubt him?**

 **...**

 **.**...

"I'm done, I'm done, stop," I demanded; my head was pounding and Apollo's hand was starting to look burnt.

"Did you get any useful memories? Did you remember anything important?" Apollo gave me a hopeful glance, "we've barely started!"

"Done," I replied, "no, no, no, no, no, I am done."

Apollo nodded, undoing the locks on the celestial gold so I could get up, "want to at least tell me what you found? I was working at the lock and an Archangel's mind isn't exactly something you can read-"

My legs almost gave out when my feet hit the ground, but I got past it, stumbling out of the room; the glass impaling my feet were only an inconvenience, an inconvenience that I ignored.

Apollo's floors are already red anyways.

It was Apollo's turn to trail after me as I made my way to the kitchen, where I promptly opened the fridge and searched for the familiar color of nectar. I found a huge gallon jug of it and pulled it out, slamming the fridge door shut behind me.

"Hey, I can make a new batch," Apollo said, but I was already unscrewing the top, "wait, that's the drugged one, Loki. Let me make a new, undruggy one."

The lid clattered when it hit the floor.

"Loki," Apollo stopped me before I could raise it up to drink it, "look, whatever you remembered, the after feelings from it will fade, you just have to... deal with it all over again. Trust me, drugging yourself isn't going to make you feel better."

I huffed, dropping it right onto the floor. Let him clean it up, I don't care. The first part of my plan was complete.

* * *

I sat curled up on the far end of the couch huddled in a blanket, silently watching as Apollo maneuvered his wood elf across Tamriel. The lonely feeling and the pain of my dad abandoning all of us had reopened something that I don't remember having gotten over. The only memories I had gotten back weren't happy ones, and that fact in itself made me feel even worse.

Amara probably put all the painful stuff just beneath the memory lock to deter people and myself from unlocking it. I had only gotten not even an atom-sized amount at most from a mind that has been around since before the Earth was even thought of and all I had gotten made me feel like complete and utter shit that's been crushed with a mountain only this time there was no intangibility to save me from the mountain.

Or maybe I just have no good memories. Man, if I was in the Harry Potter books, I could get out of their worst prisons in a heartbeat.

"You hungry?"

I didn't even look at him.

"I could make some more pie."

I don't think even pie could make me feel better right now and I really couldn't scrounge up an appetite, so I just looked in the completely other direction.

The sound of him pressing the controller's buttons resumed before he sighed and dropped the controller, "Tricksters need sugar. Technically, you're a trickster by this point as well as an archangel, so you need sugar."

I made my wings visible and flapped them angrily, knocking over the television and freezing his game.

"Fine," Apollo snapped, snapping his fingers and fixing everything I had knocked over, "be that way."

I huffed in agreement.

"I haven't even saved in hours!" he threw his hands up in the air.

Good, next time I'll smash it.

I let my wings go back to normal and pulled the blanket tighter around myself, feeling bitter and depressed.

"At least say something? Your silence is creepy; I've never seen you ever be this quiet, and any prolonged silence from Loki is very, very bad."

I couldn't bring myself to respond, so that's exactly what I did (stay quiet, I mean), mostly because it felt like I'd choke and break down if I spoke when I had such a wonderful mask up in place. Apollo turned his attention onto his game and I waited about an hour or so until he was focused on the game before I glanced over at him. Apollo didn't notice, so I slowly scooted over a bit towards him and waited a little while before scooting over more. I continued this way until I was practically squishing him against the couch and he had to lean to see over me as I leaned on him, my head on his shoulder. He gave me a weird look before turning his attention back to his game.

I waited before finally making my move.

"Ah, jeesh! Loki! Why are you grabbing my ass!?" Apollo squealed, jumping.

I didn't answer, giving him an innocent smile as I retracted my hand from his back pocket, mission accomplished.

He gave me an odd look before rolling his eyes and finally turning back to his game, squirming uncomfortably in his seat, "great, now a bored, stir crazy Loki is going to be a problem, fantastic. Can you please not grab my ass when I'm trying to take down an elder drag- oh, look, he ate me, thank you, Loki. Not that I appreciate your jokes, but please, can you, uh, please not grab my ass?"

I shrugged before hopping up and over the couch, feeling just a little bit better.

"Where are you going?"

"Shower," I managed to get out, following the hallway to the bathroom; Apollo stared at me for a moment before turning back to his game, the sound of his dragonborn's shout filling the silence. The lock slid into place with a click when I closed it and switched the lock into position. My vessel's heartrate sped up as I turned on the shower, glancing around to make sure I was alone.

And then I pulled my phone out of my pocket, the very one I'd just pickpocketed from Apollo.

"Come on, come on, please," I pleaded, trying to get it turned on. The black screen seemed to mock me, and I couldn't help the silent sob that escaped me as I stared at my own reflection, "come on, you son of a bitch, I didn't grope a pagan for nothing."

Not that he hadn't had a nice ass, cause he did, but that didn't make me happy about grabbing an ass. Talk about awkward.

"And to think I thought you were just being nice."

I jumped about fifty feet in the air, whipping around to face the pagan standing where the door should have been, his arms crossed.

My grip tightened around my phone, tensing up and expecting a fight.

"Give me the phone, Loki," Apollo said, holding out his hand for the device, "I really don't want to have to start drugging you again."

"You said you were my friend," I said, holding my only chance to my chest, "so just help me. Why won't you help me?"

"My fear of my dad is greater than my friendship to you, Loki," Apollo shook his head, still holding out his hand, "come on, Loki, you don't even remember how to fight, don't make me use force."

I stared at him, trying to decide if he was showing any visible weaknesses that I can go for as I spread my wings out, having gotten back the memory to do the creepy shadows thing. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the assessment but he threw his hands up in defeat and turned around. I relaxed, letting my guard down, and so I was completely taken by surprise when he turned suddenly, a glowing bow in hand. The arrow hit me and drove me back, pinning me to the wall behind me. I moved to pull the arrow out of my chest, but he had loosed five more quicker than I could blink. The arrows pierced through my arms and legs, every single one hitting joints and nerves, anything that put my limbs out of commission. The only thing that hurt were the next arrows that he loosed before I had even comprehended the first ones that had hit, an arrow each hitting my wings, pinning them to the wall and making me make a sound of pain that sounded neither angelic or human.

"I warned you," he said, dissipating and reappearing with a large glass of most likely drugged nectar. My hand was still curled around the only line I had to the outside world, to my Hunters, to the Winchesters, to freedom, but Apollo had no trouble taking it from my limp hand; he gave me an apologetic look as he took out part of the wall behind me so he could lean my head back a bit and raised the glass to my lips, "I really am sorry, Lokes, but you haven't given me much choice."

( **Yeah, I'm not grounded anymore thanks to a very long, complicated story, a stubbed toe, and an innocent snowbank I clipped while driving a truck for the first time -I keep using both feet but other than that my first time driving went awesome other than the fact that I slightly terrified a civilian- and giving Dean Winchester a bath all by myself which he wasn't really happy about but he didn't even growl or anything -uh, I should probably mention that I have a huge, Maine Coon cat named Dean Winchester (Dean, Dean-O, Deaners, and Deanerein are some of my favorite nicknames for him). He did pull the biggest bitch face I have ever seen on a cat though...)**


	12. Chapter 12

(I don't own Supernatural)

Trying to leave my vessel behind was useless; my wings were pinned and, by affiliation, so was I, so the fact that the memories I had gotten had retaught me how to leave a vessel and gain a vessel, it seemed I was currently trapped in this one. Apollo was the god of healing and plague, so he'd gotten the nectar down my throat with hardly a struggle like he was simply giving medicine to an unruly patient and I started to feel the effects almost immediately. It seemed that this dose was stronger than any I've had previous, because I felt more than noticed my head loll as my eyes unfocused and a heavy fog settled over my mind. Apollo waved his hand in front of my face, but I couldn't seem to make my eyes pay attention.

He took a deep breath before beginning to pull the arrows out of me, catching my limp form when it was no longer pinned to the wall, "let me see your wings."

The words almost didn't register, but I obliged, the uncomfortable warmth of visibility making them twitch before they stilled.

He practically dragged me down several halls before dropping me on the bed where he had picked at the lock on my memories. Once he had me settled, he wordlessly started fixing the wounds his arrows had made in my wings. Now was my chance to...

...To what? I couldn't seem to remember. All I knew was that I was sad. I closed my eyes and settled into sleep.

* * *

When I rose from sleep, my mind was clearer; not entirely drug free, but I could somewhat think at least. Apollo was waiting in a chair, a cup of nectar in his hands, probably planning on making me drink it once I was awake, and I quickly closed my eyes so he wouldn't notice I was awake. I waited, pretending to still be asleep, until finally I noticed he'd started to doze off out of boredom. Slowly, I moved up and gradually climbed out of the bed, the uncomfortable warmth leaving my bandaged wings as I let them return to normal.

I didn't even bump my wings into anything, moving with liquid grace out of the room and into the hall; I moved like a ghost, impossibly silent, as I found the front door. I hesitated when my hand hovered over it, glancing over my shoulder. I was going to miss the video games, but the pull of freedom was stronger than any save, as was the idea of returning to home. I couldn't even remember what my Hunters sounded like.

But how would I contact them if they weren't there?

Swearing silently under my breath, I made my way back to the room, relieved when I found the pagan still sleeping. I highly doubted he had my phone in the same spot -his pocket- but I pickpocketed him just in case. Nothing. My eyes narrowed and I glanced around, spotting a crumpled mess of something on the floor near the chair. I crouched down to examine it, heart dropping when I discovered it was the remains of my phone. So none of that then.

I slunk away from the room, returning to the door that stood between me and freedom.

I reached for the handle, freezing before I touched it, before taking a deep breath and opening the door. I don't know what horrible thing that I expected, but whatever it was didn't happen. Instead, I stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, the change of ground texture a strange feeling. I forced down a gleeful laugh and took another step, feeling more paranoid than I have ever felt before. More steps, and I hit the driveway.

I couldn't help it; I leaped for the yard, the feeling of the grass under my feet such a wonderful experience that I don't think I can describe the pure wonder of it. I felt like a cave dweller leaving behind the darkness and reaching light for the first time, feeling the grass under their feet for the first time in their entire life. I couldn't seem to breath in the fresh air fast enough, the breeze blowing playfully through my hair and feathers greeting me like an old friend.

I was free.

I took off, not feeling pain as I ran across the pavement a bit faster than a normal person; unlike a mortal, I could keep up the pace of a sprint for as long as I wanted, and I used this to my advantage by not stopping until I finally saw the motel coming into view. I didn't see Cassandra's Charger in the parking lot and I didn't have a key so I stood outside the motel door to wait, glancing for only second at the 'Please Don't Disturb' sign on the door handle. My Hunters wouldn't leave without me, but their car wasn't in the parking lot so they probably left the thing up like they do when they leave Hunter related stuff inside the room. I wasn't standing very long before I began to feel paranoid, glancing all around me every couple seconds as if my kidnappers would appear at any moment. I think I would rather run into Reluctant Apollo than Anger-Issues Ares, to be honest, but I'd rather run into neither.

It had barely passed a couple hours when I decided waiting in the open was too much to take and I dug my nails into my vessel's palm, using the blood to paint Apollo's address on the Winchester's door and hoping they would be the first ones to find it.

I had started in the opposite direction when the motel door to my Hunter's room clicked, the door opening slightly.

I stared at it for a second before cautiously moving forward, pushing open the door a little bit, dreading what may be behind it.

The room was empty, in perfect order.

"They already cleaned up the room."

I tensed, instantly in defense mood as I whipped around towards the pagan lounging on one of the beds, a familiar camera in his hands, "what a cute, useless little thing you are. This one in particular is my favorite, a little video log of little Sera talking about how excited she is about their new little angel."

I narrowed my eyes, slowly baring my teeth because my mind was fizzing out.

"You know, not every pagan can be taken out with a bloody stake," Ares shook his head sadly and turned his fierce eyes on me, wolfish grin spreading on his face, "you two really thought you'd tricked me didn't you? That I didn't know you overheard that entire conversation? I knew it was only a matter of time until you gave that useless little bitch the slip."

"Where are Sera and Cas?"

"You didn't think Apollo was going to be the only one getting punished for this whole thing did you?" his wolfish grin grew ever wider, "oh, you should have heard how much of a sailor your little Cassandra was after I painted the walls with her sister's blood; their little car was towed off yesterday. I'm surprised they managed to get the blood stains out of this room. I was kind of disappointed that they got rid of such a bloody masterpiece, pun intended. That Cassandra sure was a feisty one."

A feral growl ripped from my throat and I lunged.

But it was exactly what he had been waiting for.

* * *

My head hurt when I woke up, confused as hell and still feeling a bit foggy in the head. I was sitting against a wall, my hands tied behind me with a metal that I assumed was celestial gold when I couldn't make my hands go intangibly through it and I also couldn't snap it. Something was pressed against my neck and when I tried to stand up I was yanked back down; a golden chain was attached to a metal collar around my neck. The past week's events returned to me and I let my head fall back against the wall behind me as I bit back sobs and tears. I heard a sigh a little bit away from me and I raised my head to see Apollo in a similar situation, his pretty little face covered with cuts and, well okay, it was mostly just a golden mess with two golden eyes staring bleakly back at me from the golden blood that covered him. He'd already given up, beaten and defeated in his own home, left chained up in an empty room; the red floors seemed to mock us with the gold that stained it.

"He used a spell using that feather I took from your wings," Apollo said, his usually smooth voice raspy and he closed his eyes, regret washing over his face, "should have just stayed in Purgatory. Gods, Lokes, I'm sorry. I should have seen how this ends."

"You apologize a lot, " I croaked, leaning my head back, "it's not going to change anything."

"You just had to choose the day Ares was going to check in," Apollo choked out.

"Fuck off," I growled, but the tears running down my face kind of took away the effect, as did the silent sobs that were tearing me apart. Apollo, to his credit, said nothing and I spoke, "I deserve to be here, locked up like the monster I am."

"Since when does being an archangel make you a monster?" Apollo scoffed.

"I killed my friends," I said.

"Did you kill them yourself?"

"No," I admitted, "Ares killed them."

"Then I don't see how you killed them," Apollo said and I didn't feel up to arguing with him so I said nothing.

We plummeted into silence apart from the slightest sounds of sobs that didn't escape completely silently, accompanied by the wracking sobs emitting from my throat as I continued to break into pieces, wishing for the usual doubt that seemed to have forsaken me for this one event. It was with perfect clarity that I suffered.

* * *

I couldn't help but get startled when the door opened; I recognized Zeus, the episode he had been in still a fake memory in my mind. Apollo flinched when he entered, shrinking in on himself and moving as far as the very short length -you can thank the chain- would let him. I could practically feel the pagan's terror as it filled the room.

Zeus was wiping his golden hands on a washcloth and he gave me a slight grin, "you would not believe how hard it is to wipe ichor off. Stains worse than blood."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He laughed, as if he had just told a good joke, and walked towards me with an arrogant-confident walking pattern, smugness written across his face. He crouched down a bit to see me better and grabbed both sides of my jaw, squeezing and moving my head around. For a second my mind panicked, Amara's face flashing across my mindscape, and Zeus seemed to believe I was scared of him, which made him grin, "you really are just a harmless little bastard, aren't you?"

I was too angry to flinch when he knocked on my skull.

He beamed, getting close enough to my face that I could see the storm clouds in his eyes, lightning flickering, little pulses of light. I could imagine the sound of thunder rolling across the room, "imagine my surprise when I came back and Ares told me the gossip of the century! Little Loki isn't really a little pagan is he?"

"I'll send you back to Purgatory," I spat at him, "permanently."

"Will you now?" he questioned, as if that statement was amusing, and he shoved my head back against the wall, "you and what powers? You probably don't even have any left, little angel, being kicked out and all, which you obviously are, right? Why else would an angel masquerade as a pagan? Why, I'm guessing you're probably practically mortal, all considering. I mean, otherwise you wouldn't still be here, now would you?"

Across the room, Apollo relaxed only a fraction of a bit; Ares must not have told Zeus I was an Archangel. Archangels don't lose power if they're locked out of Heaven; a locked out Archangel does not have limited Grace.

My jaw cracked under the pressure Zeus was applying to my face, becoming dislocated. Dislocated things don't fix until they're in the right place, and I don't think Zeus knew this, since he waited as if expecting it to fix itself. I stared at him stubbornly, bruises forming on my vessel's wrists where I was straining at them, wanting nothing more than to punch this smug asshole's face in; then I will find Ares, and I will grin as his screams pierce the air and it is his turn to have the walls painted with his blood.

I will make them pay. They will suffer, and they will pay for what they have done.

"Ares says that my son is your little bitch," Zeus said, glancing at Ares before back at me, poking my jaw and grinning as I winced, my Grace using pain to alert me to the dislocation, "or... are you his bitch?"

My jaw didn't listen when I demanded it to move; maybe it was broken too.

I hissed when Zeus non too gently shoved my jaw back into place, allowing it to start healing itself. Something dark and monstrous rolled under my skin, making it itch.

"LEAVE LOKI ALONE!" Apollo pleaded, pulling at the celestial gold that kept him as helpless as I was.

"How about..." Zeus paused, grinning maliciously, "how about I make you my little bitch?"

My jaw was much too easy for the pagan to manipulate, the king of the Olympians practically shoving his tongue down my throat as he moved to straddle me. This room had been chosen for its lack of a skylight, which left the room darker than the others, but I heard skylights outside the room shattering as a feral rage escaped me, but Zeus's grip on my jaw kept me from biting his tongue off. My hands, tied behind me, were pinned by my back where he was pinning me against the wall, but I could feel my wings growing hot, about to become visible. I wanted Zeus to see what hits him when I smash his brains out, the realization dawn as six wings slam into him. I wanted to hear the crack of his bones; I wanted to watch the life get ripped from his eyes.

The door was kicked open, two men with guns blazing like the world's biggest cliché. I could see lightning flash in Zeus's eyes as he let go of my jaw and turned around, waving his hand and pinning the familiar forms of the Winchesters to the wall. They'd found the directions I had left on their door.

"Looks like I get to kill some grudges I have," Zeus let out a dark chuckle. I was still gagging, going green, disgust coiling amongst my rage, but Zeus didn't seem to notice that the chain connecting the collar to the floor and the bind around my wrists were becoming increasingly hot as my fury ate away at them, "but I was in the middle of something first."

He turned back around towards me, shoving my head back against the wall, not noticing that my teeth were becoming sharper than a shark's. He moved his head down towards mine again-

 _Snap_

The bind on my wrists snapped. My nails had turned to claws and I hardly noticed the golden marks as his ichor dripped from where I had socked him. He raised a hand to his face in surprise before an expression like thunder crossed his face. He pinned my arms, "aren't you a feisty one. So it was Apollo who was the bitch, right?"

I lunged forward as I shifted into a huge wolf, my jaws snapping shut on his neck and I twisted, so that he was the one under me, and I dug my front paws into the pagan's chest as if I was simply digging a hole... in his guts.

...

...

 **"So," Apollo stirred the little umbrella in his drink as we watched mortals walk by, all of them oblivious to the two entities in their midst, "that whole Fenris thing, and the sea serphent... jo or something, and the eight legged horse-"**

 **"I like to call the horse by his nickname, Sleip," I said, turning the umbrella in my drink into a twizzler.**

 **"Right, so you actually... uh.."**

 **"Gave birth to them?" I laughed, understanding the question that so many often ask me when they find out that I'm Loki, "those guys are just forms of mine that I made to impress Kali, except for the horse. The story of my horse breeding with the giant's horse somehow turned into me breeding with the giant's horse in the myths. Hel's kind of mine, I suppose, but I just made her up one day and decided to make her real."**

 **"So what, you're the one that's going to eat Odin?" Apollo laughed, "gross, I bet he's stringy and tastes like ass."**

 **"That's because he is an ass," I said, which made the pagan break down in laughter, "nah, I'm not planning on ending the world, Apollo, it's just not my thing. I mean, seriously? Mauling and eating somebody? Gross; I would never. Besides, the mess just isn't worth it and shapeshifting is always tricky. Brains have to change too, or the form just won't work. I mean, can you imagine a human sized brain fitting into a bird skull? It just doesn't work."**

 **...**

 **...**

Zeus was no match for the wolf that is supposed to one day bring down Odin, himself, and neither was the already mostly burned through chain of celestial gold that kept me down. My Fenris form tore him to pieces, splattering the room and everything in it with the god's golden ichor. His bones seemed as brittle as twigs, twigs I snapped and crunched. It may as well have been only me, my ball of negativity, and Zeus in the room.

Zeus made for an excellent chew toy.

I continued to rip him apart even after his screams had dwindled; I'm not sure what I hoped to accomplish. When I had calmed down slightly, the canine instincts talked me into rolling in my kill, which I did with immense enjoyment, remembering with delight the moment the confidence turned to a dawning terror and the storms drained out of his eyes.

The Winchesters finally moved, and I rolled upright and sneezed, a couple drops of the gold that dripped from my muzzle splattering the already golden floor. A golden carpet, how wonderful.

It seemed that changing to this new form had brought some of the fog back, but I didn't mind. I couldn't wait to get my fangs on Ares, too, and it was all I could think about as I resumed rolling.

"Zeus has- er, had- the key," Apollo's voice broke the awkward silence, and the Winchesters turned their eyes on me, pausing in their attempt at freeing the guy who they probably didn't even know was a pagan.

"Awesome," Dean finally said, tone dripping with sarcasm, "well, you bonded with him over his little sob story about amnesia, Sammy, so go pet him."

"Why do I have to get the key?"

"He made more moose calls than squirrel sounds while he was here in an attempt at summoning the Winchesters, " Apollo said helpfully, "I think he likes you more than squirrel guy. Besides, he's still a tad bit drugged, so maybe he won't even notice you. It was designed to kick in more if he used his Grace and powers."

"Because that worked out so well for Mr. Rape over there," Dean huffed under his breath, his gun at the ready.

Sam pulled a bitch face but finally started towards me, holding out his hands peacefully as if I was some sort of dangerous and frightened wild animal, "heeeeyyyy, Gabriel... I just need to get a key off of..." he cast a glance at the mess that was the shredded corpse of the pagan Zeus, "... that."

I gave a happy little gurgle and rolled onto my back on the corpse and wiggled around like I was taking a dirt bath.

"Good Gabriel," he said encouragingly, freezing when I rolled back onto my belly, my gold soaked fur sticking up in spikes here and there. I was practically wiggling with excitement as he walked near me; did he want to play? How about Throw stick or Keep Away, or maybe my favorite game where we combine the two former games?

But all he did was pull a face and start digging through the scattered mess, like he was trying to find a bone that he had forgotten where he had buried. I wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish by pawing through it, because he was going over the Roll In It game all wrong.

Before I could decide if he needed help playing Roll In It, he found a key that I couldn't determine if it was gold itself or just drenched in ichor; maybe it was both. I was a little disappointed watching him leave, so maybe he had changed his mind about playing. That's alright, more room for me to play Roll In It then.


	13. Chapter 13

(I don't own Supernatural) no such thing, handclap,

No matter how hard I tried, it seemed that archangels can't actually puke, so I settled for brushing my teeth for about an hour and taking a really long shower. I still had traces of gold that was clinging stubbornly to my hair, and my Grace probably had to replace a layer of skin with how hard I scrubbed at my legs, feet, hands, arms and face. By the time I finally returned to the living room where most of my time in captivity had been spent, Apollo had just gotten to when he unloaded, like, fifty arrows into me in his explanation (actually, only about twelve or thirteen, but damn it hurt like hell).

"So let me get this straight," Dean held his hands out for silence, "you thought that, to get rid of another pagan, you would **kidnap** an **archangel** and make it kill the pagan **against its will** and **while drugged**."

He put a lot of emphasis in that sentence.

Apollo awkwardly nodded, looking like he was about to pass out. It seemed he had also gotten himself cleaned up, for he wasn't covered in his own ichor anymore. It was an improvement.

Sam entered the room in the middle of putting his phone in his pocket, "I contacted the Maples; they're on their way."

"Ares killed the Maples," I dropped onto the couch with a huff and shoved Apollo off it, trying not to cry at the thought of my Hunters.

"Hey!" he protested, but I had already stretched out on the couch and rolled over to face the back of it.

"What are you talking about?" Dean snorted, "we're right next door to them, so I think we would have noticed if they were dead. They've been spending most of their time looking for you. I told them you ditched them and that we should focus on the hunt but Cassandra almost punched me in the face so I decided to just let them look."

"What?" I didn't even feel embarrassed when my voice cracked, but luckily nobody commented on it.

"You seriously think Ares would risk going anywhere near the Winchesters with their track record?" Apollo rolled his eyes, "he's trigger-happy but he's not stupid."

I scrambled up into a sitting position, muffling a yawn, but I felt like I had just won the lottery and wasn't going to let a little drowsiness bring me down now. I felt sickeningly full for the first time in a long time, so I was pretty sure I didn't feel up to a sugar fix to wake me up, "they're okay? But Ares said-"

"Loki, you're not the only thing with the ability to lie, you know," Apollo said.

"You keep calling him Loki," Sam said, sitting down in an armchair, seeming to relax but I could tell by the way he held himself that's was ready to leap to his feet at any moment should the need arise and his brother was doing the same thing only with an intimidating look on his face, "but you must know he's Gabriel, so why do you not call him Gabriel?"

Apollo leaned his head back on the couch cushion and I swatted at him but he pretended not to notice, "Loki was my friend for centuries. I would trust h- I would have trusted him with my very life, and that isn't common among pagans. I'm hoping to get that friendship back. I tried calling him Gabriel, but it just doesn't feel right to call him anything else but Loki. Lokes is my friend, and I'm hooping he remembers that."

"Fuck you, asshole," I growled, flipping him off, "hope Hellhounds drag your ass to hell."

"It might take a while to regain his friendship," Apollo pulled a grin.

"Yeah, because that definitely seems salvageable," Dean glanced at the ceiling, sarcasm rolling off of him in waves.

I heard the front door slam open and I was up and moving like a hunting cat, slinking towards the intruder until I could see who had entered, just in case it was Ares. The very moment recognition registered, I was pouncing, tackling the two in a bear hug.

"Gabe!" Sera laughed, and I could sense that she was more relieved and ecstatic than angry that I had just tackled her and her sister to the floor in a massive hug, trying not to squish them as I tried to use my wings to hug them too. Cas didn't say anything at all, the worry lurking in her heart turning to relief as she buried her head in my shoulder. No words needed to be said. Not right now.

* * *

I ended up using Cassandra's shoulder as a pillow while Sera messed with my hair in an attempt to see if she could mess it up without my Grace putting it back in place (she couldn't). Sera poked me to wake me up at some point and shoved something into my hand that I saw was a candy bar, but I wordlessly handed it back, the thought of eating making me feel queasy.

The next thing to wake me up was when my pillow leaned me over to rest on somebody's else's shoulder; I opened my eyes a bit and smirked smugly when I saw Apollo cowering under the verbal lashing Cas was attacking him with. Good, somebody else can get lectured for once.

* * *

"Gabriel, you have to eat some candy," Sera was trying to get me to eat the candy bar again, but I shook my head, wanting to go back to sleep.

"He's probably still full of Zeus chow," Dean made a snide remark.

I gave him a half hearted glare and tried to go back to sleep.

"Gabe," Cas said sharply, shoving the candy bar in my hand, "eat the candy."

"Not hungry."

"Give me a moment," Apollo got to his feet and left the room, giving me a moment of silence to fall back to sleep. At least until my nose caught the familiar scent of a certain baked good. I cracked my eyes open in time for one of Apollo's wonderful ambrosia pies to be shoved into my hands, the pagan holding out a fork with the same intensity as a human trying to get an animal to eat out of their hand. I huffed, staring at him, before straightening just a bit, my mind watering before it turned to nausea and I shook my head, pushing the pie back towards him.

"I'll eat it," Dean quickly offered.

"It has ambrosia in it," Apollo said, glancing back at him, "the food of the go- of the pagans."

"So?"

"So it would kill you."

"Killer pie," Dean said sadly, "oh well, seems like a fun way to go."

"Dean!" Sam scolded him.

"What? It's pie, Sammy!"

"You know you want the pie, Lokes," Apollo said, trying to shove the pie towards me.

"I'll shove this pie-"

"Gabe!" Sera scolded me, casting a glare at Apollo, "you made him violent, you ass."

"Wasn't my fault," he threw his hands up in defeat, "fine, if you don't want the pie, all you have to do is say no! Don't need to be making threats!"

"Maybe I would be more willing to eat something if it wasn't made by somebody who drugged and kidnapped me!"

"You are so ungrateful!"

"Ungrateful!?" I raged, bristling, "why you little-"

"Both of you stop!" Cas shouted, making everything go quiet, "Gabriel, eat the pie before you pass out."

"Fine," I grumbled, snatching the fork from the pagan and pulling the pie towards me. I stared at it before cringing and dropping the fork, "I can't do it, I'm taking a nap, nap sounds good."

"Eat the damn pie!"

Angry Dean was even more persuasive than angry Cas, and I quickly dug into the pie, staring at the Hunter warily until I had eaten the entire thing.

"There," Sam nodded, "see? We're all civilized-"

I whipped the pie tin at Apollo's head and it made a clang as it bounced off. Haha! Bullseye!

"Ow!" Apollo tossed it back at me and yelped when I tried to lunge at him with what energy I had left, held back only by the fact that Sera grabbed onto my arm to prevent a fight and I didn't want her to get hurt.

"-most of us are civilized," Sam corrected, "let's just try to figure things out. I called Cas, uh, our Cas, after I called you two, and he's with Crowley. They want to meet up and see Gabriel. Since we've finished our hunt, I figured me and my brother could take Gabriel to go meet up with them."

"We'll be coming too," Cassandra and Sera said in unison in a tone that said with perfect clarity that there was no negotiating with this decision.

"Want another pie?" Apollo asked me, "it didn't seem to wake you up enough."

"Leave me alone, I hate you."

"You don't hate me."

"You have a very special spot in my hate place."

"Your heart."

"What? No! I said my hate place!"

"What's your hate place?"

"I don't know!? My stomach? That's where Zeus ended up!"

"For the love of-"

"Will you two shut your traps!?"

Apollo and I gave the group sour looks.

"Well, I'll be coming with you," Apollo said finally.

"Like Hell-"

"You need me," he held up his burned hand with a smug look on his face, "unless you want to just continue on that way?"

I growled for a long moment before sighing in defeat, "Apollo is coming too."

"Seriously? What, he blackmailing you or something?" Dean glanced over at the pagan as if he wouldn't put the action past the guy. Honestly, I wouldn't either at the moment.

"Worse," I grumbled, "I don't feel like explaining."

"I figured out what happened to his memories," Apollo said smugly, glancing at me and pausing for a moment to make sure I was okay with him sharing this information; I didn't stop him, "Amara resurrected him so her brother couldn't and locked all his memories up so that even if her brother found him Loki would still be useless."

"Thanks for putting it so kindly."

"You are ever so welcome, Lokes."

"It was sarcasm, you ass."

"I know."

"So you have your memories back?" Sam derailed the hate train that was chugging away between the pagan and I, mostly from my end. Choo! Choo! Full steam ahead! Run him over!

"Not even close," Apollo answered before I could, "I've been working on the lock, but she left a lot of detours and traps, along with a lot of routes back to his mind. I wouldn't even be attempting to unlock all his memories if it weren't for my prophecy skills; one wrong move and I'll be burnt to a crisp. It's painful for both of us, more so me."

"More so me," I corrected.

"Excuse me!?" Apollo gave me an angry, baffled look and held his hand up as if he needed proof, "you're not the one risking getting barbecued!"

"You see this?" I said angrily, somehow keeping a straight face as I said it while pointing at my right hand, which was curled into a fist, "this is the hate train and it is going to choo, choo right into your face."

"Both of you shut up," Cas finally snapped, "all you two are doing is bicker, and it is getting on my nerves."

I cast a glare at the pagan.

"So, you can get all his memories back," Sam changed the topic.

"Eventually, perhaps, I'll be lucky if I don't find any further damage from Amara," Apollo shrugged.

"Good, you can work on that on the way to meet up with Cas," Dean said.

"I don't think that's-" I started to object.

"Sounds good to me," Apollo grinned, subtly flipping me off at just the right angle to not really be noticed by the others. I growled, teeth growing sharp, but I remembered the taste of ichor, the sound of Zeus's bones being crunched; my teeth returned to normal and I felt like I was going to puke, even though I knew I couldn't. Nope, all that -how did Apollo put it?- Zeus chow, all of it digesting-

I gagged; Sera scooted away a bit, but (I'm not a mother hen, Gabe, quit calling me a mother hen, Gabe, she says. It be like, no, you a mother hen, Cassandra darling) mother hen Cas rubbed my back which actually did kind of help.

"He should ride with you guys," Sera offered, "be like a guys night or something, it'll be fine."

"Are you making him sick?" Cas glared at Apollo.

He gave her a hurt look, "why would I want to make him sick?...I mean... why would I want to make him sick again?"

"One wrong move and your insides become outsides, you got it, pagan?" Cassandra asked, staring him down, "you would do best to stay where one of us Hunters can see you, or things are going to get nasty. I've been wanting to find what makes a pagan tick."

"Okay!" he practically whined, holding his hands up in surrender, "for the love of Olympus, just don't give me one of those lectures again and we're square!"

* * *

"I can't believe I let them talk me into this," Dean growled, turning up the radio, "god, their puppy eyes put yours to shame, Sammy."

"Maybe it's because they're smaller than I am?" Sam offered, looking in the side mirror at the Charger driving behind the Impala. We probably looked like a mini classic car parade.

Heat of the Moment came on and I perked up, "hey! I love this song!"

Sam gave me the biggest, scariest glare I have ever seen, one that made me shrink back in the seat, and he snapped the radio off, plunging us into silence, "we are not listening to that song."

"Dude, hands off the radio," Dean complained, turning it back up; he changed it to a different song though, humming along as Eye of the Tiger blasted from the radio.

"You should listen to quality music," Apollo complained.

"You wouldn't know quality music if it hit you in your ugly ass face," I shoved him away from me.

"Hey! He pushed me again!" the Greek god of music snitched like a prissy cabbage.

"Don't make me come back there!" Dean yelled at us, glancing up at the mirror that showed the backseat.

"You can't come back here, you're driving," Apollo huffed.

"Sam isn't," I smirked at the pagan, "and Sam can kick your ass."

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Ha!" I crowed with victory at making him agree.

"If I have to say something one more time I will park this car and kick both of your asses!"

We both went silent at Dean's outburst, taking the Winchester's threat to heart. Huh, hearts...

"If a werewolf ate my heart, would my heart grow back?" I wondered aloud.

"The next thing in that backseat that makes a single peep gets staked."

( **-_-' I had so many second thoughts about last chapter. I almost didn't publish it, but I guess I'm stuck with it now. It's my first time writing anything like that -I have had a character maul another to death before though, so that isn't new- and this story is practically a world of firsts for me, but to be honest -and this is after trudging through a lot of mythology- I felt that it was probably what Zeus would do, which sucks, and so it was fun to kill him. Very fun, I should kill characters more often, who is next? (*Cas glances at me warily and wonders if he should hide the Winchesters*) And thank you for all of the awesome comments and feedback! Hey, any of you watch the Walking Dead and Talking Dead -the very one I was watching while I write this chapter-? I would send in a video for Ultimate Fan if I wasn't such an introvert and had so much homework. Pretty sure I wouldn't get excused for going across the country to be on a television show -if by some rare chance I would have won-.)**


	14. Chapter 14

(I don't own supernatural)

...

...

 **The first was what most would call a teen, the second only a bit younger, the third created was more of a ten year old in comparison to age relevance. I was an even stranger experiment, created even smaller than the others. Some might say I was the first small child. My older siblings grew to adore me, though not as much as they adored Father. If we had our own human forms, mortals would have thought me a five year old. We aged, slowly, very slowly, with no death date in sight, for we were our Father's companions, his children.**

 **Until we had to fight back against the Darkness, much too soon in our existence, before Father had expected it to happen.**

 **With a snap of Dad's fingers, we grew up. Our wings grew out, our forms got larger, and we were... adults, I suppose.**

 **Perhaps that's why we are the way we are, not having had enough time to learn the lessons that childhood teaches children, since we didn't have enough time to be children. Father had no need for little feet running around.**

 **He needed warriors.**

 **And that's what we would be, standing alongside him, facing the Darkness together, a family of warriors ass deep in a sibling feud between our father and our aunt.**

 **...**

...

A hand moved away from eyes.

I open my eyes, groggy and confused; I'm spread out on the backseat, using Apollo as a pillow, and I sit upright so quickly Apollo cries out in complaint.

"Amara-" I say, panicking, clinging to Apollo's arm so tightly that it's digging crescent moons into his skin.

"Isn't here," he finished.

"But- but- where's Dad? Where's my Dad? Where's my siblings? Michael!? Luci!? Ra-"

"Shhh, take a moment to reconfigure," Apollo sighed, patting me on the head.

I do, trembling and terrified as my mind catches up. When it does, I scoot away to the opposite side of the Impala's backseat, refusing to even look at the pagan.

"And back to square one, " Apollo sighed.

I've only just made it to the other side of the backseat when the two front doors open and I realize that the Impala is stationary; the Winchesters slide into their seats more gracefully than leopards, closing their doors in unison. I turn my attention out the window, staring at the gas station, wanting to pull my feet up and curl up in a ball but not knowing if Dean would consider it rude for me to have my feet on the seats and I honestly didn't want to risk it.

"You okay?"

I glance over from where I have my head leaning in the window and give Sam a nod, a bit touched that the Winchester cares even though he has all reason to hate my guts. But I wasn't supposed to know that.

"I picked at the lock," Apollo said, "he woke up practically hyperventilating, so it must have been a bad one that leaked free."

"They're all bad ones," I grumbled.

"That's because Amara moved all the bad ones in front to deter anybody trying to get through," Apollo argued, "give me time and I'll reach them. Come back over here so I can try again."

"Perite," I responded.

"Excuse me?" Apollo gave me a baffled look, "if you're going to drop the f bomb, then do it in English or Greek."

I looked him right in the eye and spoke in Latin again, "te odeo, interfice te cochleare."

He stared right back at me, "podex perfectus es."

I really should not have been so surprised that he knew Latin, but him calling me an asshole was not going to slide, "fututus et mori in igni."

"Hey!" Dean scolded, turning around his seat, "Gabriel, I did not appreciate overhearing that comment!"

"Commodum habitus es," Apollo crowed in victory.

"And you!" Dean targeted him, pointing his finger at the pagan, "you cut it out too! We speak English when you're under my roof!"

Sam muffled a snicker, causing Dean to shoot the moose a glare, "what's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," Sam smirked.

I glanced up at the Impala's roof, "so if I stepped out of this car, I-"

"I will kick you the hell out of my car, I am not even kidding."

I shut up and Dean glared pointedly at both of us before righting himself and starting up the Impala, pulling out of the parking lot. I stared out the window until the gas station had disappeared, then glanced over at Apollo. Grinning internally to myself, I let the warm feeling go through my wings, straining to limit it to Apollo so I can appear innocent. If my wings are going to keep me uncomfortable for this entire trip, then they can keep him uncomfortable for this entire trip.

Apollo shot out a curse at me in Greek, something about eating his shorts.

"That's it," Dean hit his turn signal and swerved the Impala onto the shoulder of the road, pulling it to as quick a stop as possible without hurting any part of his car. Behind us, the Charger eased onto the shoulder of the road, just behind us, and I could make out the confused expressions on their faces, "Apollo, get out before I kill you."

"But-"

Dean whipped out a pistol and pointed it at the pagan's face.

"Fine, I'll ride with the Maples then, though don't think I'm scared of you, because I'm not, it's just that this is my favorite shirt and I don't want a bullet hole in it," Apollo surrendered, opening the door and hopping out. I watched him until Cas grudgingly let him in the backseat of the Charger.

Once everything was settled, Dean put the vehicle in drive and pulled back onto the highway.

I let the warmth leave my wings and moved to the premium spot to be the most comfortable, my wings not bothering me as much as before now that I was the only one in the backseat.

The next pit stop I wanted to take a short flight, but Cas didn't let me, telling me to get back in the Impala (I haven't gone missing EVERY time I wander off, Cassandra, jeez), so I kind of got ticked off about that. How dare a mortal order an Archangel around!? But I didn't want a lecture so I didn't say my thoughts aloud, especially when I was in earshot of Cas.

* * *

I was unimpressed with the fact that Castiel and the King of Hell were not there when we got there.

"The Hoppy Elephant," I complained as we moved all our stuff in, keeping to one room for the sake of saving money, "elephants can't even jump!"

"Quit your belly aching."

"So easy for you to say," I scoffed at Sera, "you're not the one that has to sleep on the floor next to this bozo. You get to sleep in the nice, warm bed."

"We can cuddle, you'll love it," Apollo said, grabbing my ass as he walked past and dodging away before I could take his head off, "there, consider us even."

"Sure, come here and let me drug you and give you Ebola, then we're even," I said, "maybe I should load fifteen hundred arrows into you, too."

"I did not give you Ebola and it was only, like, thirteen arrows or something."

"Don't start, you two," Cas said, immediately taking over the bed next to the window and pulling a container of salt out of her bag to line the window with.

"He grabbed my butt!"

"Apollo, don't grab butts."

"But he grabbed my butt!"

"Gabriel, don't grab butts."

I threw my hands up in exasperation but only succeeded in hitting myself in the face with the duffel bag that was occupying both hands, "ow! Apollo hit me!"

"You hit yourself!"

"I will make you both sleep outside, I don't even care anymore," Dean growled out as he walked in the door, dropping his duffel on the second bed next to where Sam had left his. It silenced both of us and I fell into the routine of making the room safe alongside Cas and Sam, setting to work on drawing sigils and traps while they set up salt lines.

"Bellwether," I said, snapping my fingers as the word popped into my mind with a sense of urgency.

"Excuse me?"

"Hmm? What?"

"You said Bellwether, what's a Bellwether?"

"I don't know."

Apollo stared at me for a minute before rolling his eyes, "whatever, fine."

It was as Apollo spread out the bed sheet and started making the makeshift floor bed that I could practically feel the moment realization made him bristle, "wait a minute, I am an Olympian! Why am I the one sleeping on the floor!?"

"Technically we don't need sleep and when was the last time you woke up aching from sleeping on the floor?" I cast a glare his way.

"That's not the p-"

Dean pulled his pistol out and sat down to clean it, glaring pointedly at us. We got the hint and shut up, though I stuck my tongue out at the pagan anyways. I loved a comfy bed too, but motel beds are usually anything but comfy and I was much happier sleeping on the floor than where people have probably spent crappy honeymoons; at least carpet gets vacuumed... wait, do they vacuum the carpet? I glanced warily at the carpet, but figured I'd be fine. The floor gave me room to stretch out my wings and as long as I woke up and brought my wings in before people started walking around and stepping on wings they can't see I'll be fine.

I really hope Apollo wasn't serious when he said we'd cuddle.

"Alright, we'll start looking into the disappearances," Sam said before glancing over in Apollo's general direction, "Apollo, you work on getting Gabriel to remember more."

My head shot up and I almost messed up on the warding I was making but I tried to play it off, turning my gaze back to the ward before anybody could see the terrified expression that I was forcing off my face and I was surprised when my voice came out strong when I spoke, "so this is more than just a family reunion? I can help you guys, I'm awesome at google. You know, being the Angel of Media and all."

"Last time you were the Angel of Media you lost your shirt," Sera grumbled.

"Ah, yes, Loki, God of Memes," Cassandra rolled her eyes, but a smile pulled at her lips, "was that before or after you killed the dragons?"

"God of Memes?" Dean raised an eyebrow, "dragons?"

A grin of relief pulled at my features, glad to have gotten their minds off of getting Apollo to work on my head; the very idea of him coming near my head made me fidgety. I recounted the epic event, only faltering when I got to the killing part, feeling a bit sad at the memory. They had needed to die, but man, had they been magnificent creatures.

"You dropped a mountain on the First Dragon?" Sam stared at me in shock once I was done.

"So all that millions of dollars worth of loot is buried under thousands of feet of rubble?" I could hear the sadness in Dean's voice at the thought, "do you know how much food that could buy?"

"All the pie?" I sighed in agreement.

"Mmm, pie," Dean closed his eyes, savoring a memory of the baked good, "speaking of which, we have time before Cas contacts us to tell us a meet up location in this town. Who's hungry?"

"Me!"

"You don't get hungry, Lokes."

"Do too!"

"Ssshhhhh," Sera complained, "there's a bar I saw driving in, we can go to that place, looked fun."

"Last time I went to a bar I lost my shirt and scared a lady in a park when I started rambling about the apocalypse," I cringed at the memory, "besides, do bars even have pie? I am not a fun drunk, believe me."

"You sounded fun," Sera disagreed with me, "besides, you don't need to drink, Gabe."

"Good, Apollo can work at the Lock on the way there."

Father damn it.

* * *

...

...

 **"Hey, now!" I laughed, somehow keeping my nervousness out of my voice as I ran my hands along the wall behind me. Trapped. I could try to escape, but I still had a reputation as a pagan to uphold, otherwise I would leave this vessel in an instant.**

 **"We won the bet, Loki," the dwarf holding the axe growled out, "your head is ours."**

 **"Ah, ah, ah," I tsked, ducking under the blow he took at my head, "yes, of course you can have my head but I specifically remember not giving you any right to my neck!"**

 **The dwarves looked at each other before one of them shrugged and grudgingly admitted that I had a point. I waited anxiously as they talked amongst themselves, examining my face and neck in an attempt to figure out where one ended and the other began.**

 **"This is obviously neck, and this is obviously his head," one grumbled, but the discussion on that point didn't go farther than that since they couldn't figure out where to cut away.**

 **"For the love of," the one holding the axe growled -huh, guess he's a growler- and his axe made a dreadful thud as it hit the ground and he came storming towards me, "hold him down!"**

 **"Hey, hey, hey!" my silver tongue left me and I could hear the pitiful panic in my voice, "the bet said-"**

 **"We're sick of your wordplay, jotunn," the lead dwarf said, pulling a long, wickedly sharp needle from his bag as they came towards me, "we'll put a stop to that instead of taking your head. Somebody get me some thread."**

 **...**

...

I clawed at the thread that kept my mouth shut, but something grabbed my arms and held them down; I could hear a grunt of exertion come from the being as I struggled to free myself. I cried out and a wordless plea escaped me, not muffled by my mouth, oddly, which the dwarves had sewn shut, and tendrils of my Grace moved out in unison to my cry, instinctively sending out cries for help.

"Lokes, open your eyes," a strained voice said, but all it did was make me struggle even more against the two arms pinning me down, "listen to me, Lokes, open your eyes."

I did, running a blurry gaze over the strange, cramped surroundings, and it occurred to me that I could move my mouth. Open, close, open, close. I gaped like a man almost suffocated, gulping in air like it was going out of style. My heart thudded in my heart like a stampede, terrified, panicked. I could still fear the needle going through my lips, the pull of the thread as it was run through and pulled tight, the needle moving on to its next target, the pierce, the thread, the fear, the pain. Stab, pull, stab, pull.

"Bad one?" a deep voice questioned from up front, and an affirmative response came from the one holding me down. The sound of music reached my ears as somebody turned it up; it helped pull me free from the memory's hold and I settled down, though still trembling in terror.

Apollo let go of my hands, but other than moving my hands up to rub at my mouth, tracing scars long since healed, I didn't move.

The laughter of the dwarves still rang in my ears.


	15. Chapter 15

(I don't own Supernatural. Forgot to answer last chapter, but yeah, Mr. Morgan is in TWD, he plays Negan.)

"Hottie, twelve o clock," Apollo took over the seat next to me, swirling the liquid in his shot glass around before downing it, golden eyes glancing in said direction.

"Creeper, twelve o clock," I corrected, not looking away from where I had my head slumped on my hand, staring sadly into my own shot glass. Still trying to decide whether I should drink or not tonight, "she's been watching me for ten minutes. Olympian?"

"Nah, don't recognize her, must be mortal," Apollo said, beckoning for a refill from the bartender, "demon?"

"Nope, all clear."

"Sweet," Apollo said, downing his next shot before casting one of his charming grins across at her and giving a slight wave, making her giggle, "she's totally checking you out, go talk to her."

"I've decided I'm gay," I said, not feeling up to the torture that is small talk.

"I know for a fact that you bi, go mingle."

"I don't want to mingle," I said, giving him an odd look.

"You are pagan," Apollo began, shaking his head when I spat out denials, "uh-uh, you, my friend, are a pagan, and pagans love to mingle. I want you to go mingle, my fine feathered wingman."

"Exactly how drunk are you right now?"

"Yes," Apollo answered, giving a nod before his eyes lit up like a starving wolf who had caught the scent of a wounded animal, "oooh, maybe you're already mingling, oh, this is my favorite game, I love it. Let me see... is it... the big guy? Cording to Norse, you love the big ones. Oh, it is definetly the big guy isn't it?"

"Big guy? What the hell are you talk-"

Apollo used his hand to turn my head, pointing once my gaze was in the direction he wanted it in, smug grin on his face the entire time.

"Apollo, I am not shagging the younger Winchester," I deadpanned.

"Give me one good reason why not! You are blushing! Blushing means yes!"

I turned his head towards the older brother, "blushing does not mean yes, Apollo, blushing means why the hell would you think I was shagging the younger Winchester."

"Oh, you're shagging that one, nice."

"What!? No!" I facepalmed, "even if I wanted to shag anybody, do you really think I could shag Sam Winchester and not have Dean Winchester shoot my head off?"

"Not good enough, give nother reason."

"Fine, give me five names of people who have slept with Sam Winchester and are still alive."

"Uh..." Apollo finally shrugged after a couple minutes, "first time for everything?"

"Apollo, I wouldn't shag a Winchester even if I wanted to."

"Why?"

I shouldered him away when he tried to grab my drink, "go drink a glass of water or something. Jeez, you pagans don't take much to lose your sober status, huh?"

"I may have run into a friend," Apollo admitted, glancing at a man sitting on the other side of the bar. He had both women and men hanging with him, clinging onto his every word and laughing at even the slightest of jokes as if he was some sort of g- oh.

"Hey, the Greek wine dude, right?" I rolled my eyes, because who else would hang out in a bar... besides one really drunk pagan and a crap example of an Archangel, "of course he hangs out in bars. Dionysus, was it?"

Apollo was too drunk to care, "look, don't even try tellin me you are not the drunk yourself-"

"The drunk?"

"-shhsheud!" Apollo shushed me, "you are obviously the drunk yoself, for you have not threatened me even once."

"Oh, that reminds me," I said, shoving him out of his seat.

"Nononono," Apollo backtracked, barely managing not to fall, "huh, that chick is kind of creepy, staring at ya like that. So, want to play a game?"

"No, Apollo, I don't want to play anything. Just let me sulk here."

"Fine, follow me, Dionysus could loosen up a crocodile with a tooth ache."

"I don't need to loosen up, I am loose, very relax, much happy. Do you know what happened last time I 'loosened up'? Very bad things, Apollo, I lost my favorite shirt."

"I rest my case," Apollo said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along, forcing me to leave my drink at the counter. Oh, well. I saw the creepy girl run over and put something in it, so I decided that I wasn't planning on drinking it.

"Apollo!" Dionysus greeted with a grin as we neared him, and with a single wave from the wine pagan a space cleared in his little fan groupie, a space Apollo and I quickly filled. I fidgeted the second I was sitting in the booth, not appreciating being so crammed against people, nobody noticing that my wings were all up in their faces and that every time somebody moved, which was often, they messed up feathers. My claustrophobia was beginning to make an appearance. Dionysus seemed to be the only sober one in the group, all considering, "you still thirsty? Oh, who's your handsome friend?"

My face flushed, not used to such... uh, comments, especially with the wink the pagan sent my way. It made me uncomfortable, and a shiver ran through me, remembering Zeus.

"Dionysus, you recognize Lokes?"

His smile faltered for only a moment, "oh, right, your little Norse puppy, Loki was it?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"You know, Apollo, Ares told me the strangest th-"

"I was just telling him about my pal, Dionysus," Apollo interrupted the other pagan, "king of the party! And this, this fellow right here," I had to shrug his arm off from around my shoulders, "doesn't believe me when I say that a Greek party is where it's at!"

"Hard to beat those Norse get togethers," I went along with... whatever he was trying to do.

A glimmer showed in Dionysus's eyes and he reached into a hidden pocket of his suit, making me stiffen, but all he did was pull out a bottle that he used to fill up a glass, "here, my own special creation; made for gods, by gods. Of course, if you want a real party, Apollo should bring you to one in Olympus."

It took a lot out of me not to correct the term he used to pagan, but I managed, wordlessly picking up the glass, "well, I guess I'll have to see for myself how well it does compared to the asgardian beverages I know so well."

The effect was immediate; and to think I thought I had been drunk before... I must have just been a tad bit drunk, because, looking back, everything was black after that.

* * *

"Ooooowwwwwwww," I whined, opening bleary eyes; it took me a minute to register the bars a little bit aways and the dreary surroundings. My head was pounding and it wasn't until something moved against my neck that I realized that I didn't have a blanket, but somebody had their arms wrapped around me like I was some sort of giant teddy bear, their body heat giving off enough heat to have me mistake them for a blanket, which meant I immediately knew who it was that was seriously intruding upon my personal bubble.

He hadn't been kidding about cuddling.

I elbowed Apollo right in the face as hard as I could.

"Ow!" he jumped awake, wincing at the dim light that trailed into the room and his hand reaching up to his head. Then he noticed me and cried out, shoving me, and I fell onto the hard ground of the cell, "what the hell!? I wasn't serious about cuddling, Lokes!"

"You were the one cuddling me, you creep!" I cringed, massaging my aching temples, "where a-"

I cut off in pain as something hit a bar with a sharp clang, sending a sharp spike through my still hungover head.

"Rise and shine!" the cheerful voice bit through my mind like razor wire and I shot the being a hateful glare that faltered out the very moment I saw that the man was law enforcement.

I groaned and let myself fall backwards, head thumping on the hard floor of the cell, but I couldn't find it in me to care. The only good thing was that I still had my shirt, which meant that I hadn't lost any of my clothes this time- wait a minute.

"So, now that you both seem sober, you can make the call to your... what was the term you used when you were being read your rights? Oh, yes, pimp lawyer, you can call your pimp lawyer now."

"Where are my pants?" I realized.

"We asked you that as well," the officer grinned, "so, Mr. The-Meme-God-Doesn't-Need-Pants and Mr. How-Dare-You-Cuff-The-Sun-God, you two care to tell us your real names?"

* * *

"One call for both of you," the officer controlling the phone said.

"Each," the officer corrected.

"What? But we're supposed to-"

"You haven't even given us your real names yet," the officer said bitterly, "so why don't you accept my generosity and use your one phone call?"

"Walter here's just angry cause you called him Agent Assmunch," the officer who had greeted us this morning grinned, "and apparently I am Agent Motherdick"

I covered my mouth in shock, "I am so sorry. Oh, jeez, I am never drinking with Dionysus again."

"You're telling me," Apollo grumbled out, still leaning his head on the cool wall.

"Officer Quints?"

Agent Motherdick turned to speak to the officer that I had stopped to speak with him, going a little bit always to talk over details of a case.

Walter's expression softened but a tiny fraction, "fine, you two make your phone calls."

Apollo grabbed the phone first simply because he felt that I had wanted it more; he dialed in the numbers and waited, shifting anxiously until the other person picked up, "hey! Artemis! Hey, sis, I was wondering if-"

I heard the click as she hung up.

"Great," Apollo ran his hand through his hair, "can I try somebody else? There's this rumor flying around about me, you see, and so I'm not sure which relatives will pick up-"

"Well, then, you'd better hope your buddy the Meme God over here has better luck," Walter said sarcastically.

"Got it, okie dokie, one call to the lawyer," I said, picking up the phone and staring at the number pad as I tried to remember what the number was.

"Oh, your pimp?"

"I don't know," I snapped, "just lawyer, okay? Don't listen to drunk me, he's a weird jerk. Look, I'm FBI, just let me call my superiors, they can vouch for me and get me out of here."

I finally remembered the number and dialed it in, waiting as it rang. A familiar ringtone filled the air, and relief flooded me. So hey we're already here, which was great-

"Well would you look at that?"

I turned to glance at Officer Quints, freezing when I saw the phone in the evidence bag that was ringing away.

Walter took too much joy in yanking my arms behind me and shoving me against the wall, cuffs clicking as they tightened on my wrists, "you have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire."

Daddamnit.

(What's wrong with chapter 11? Why have people skipped 11? Are people skipping 11? It's like skipping Nine, you don't skip a Doctor, you don't skip a chapter, you guys that skipped are missing out.)


	16. Chapter 16

(I don't own Supernatural)

Officer Quints was too happy to be human, but I was most certain that he was human, which sucked.

"So you're a friend of the Winchesters," he said cheerfully, dropping a thick file onto the table. I pulled at my handcuffs but not hard enough to break them or the table, whichever came first, "so what, you the clean face of the operation? The mastermind with the clean hands?"

I stayed silent, internally freaking out, all too aware of the handcuffs on my hands. The logical part of me was trying to make it occur to the rest of me that I could easily break them and leave, but the rest of me couldn't seem to get Amara's laughter and Zeus's breath on my face as he leaned towards me out of my mind. The sound memory of the snap and crunch of his bones, the tearing sound as I ripped him apart, wasn't far behind, and I felt sick.

"Hey, you don't look too good," Quints said, leaning forward, sitting on the edge of his seat. Of course he would be happy, I realized, this was probably the case of a lifetime, "now, not many people have a direct line to the Winchester brothers, so how about you tell me your name? Here, I'll go first," he held his hand out, "Leon Quints. There, now you tell me your name."

"Gabriel," it came out weaker than I had wanted it to; instead of a cocky smirk and a confident tone, I was trying to make myself look small and could barely speak without my voice shaking.

"Gabriel," he smiled warmly, "now, Gabriel, your buddy, the one you came in with, what can you tell me about him?"

"The guy from the bar?" I tried, "uh, yeah, think he called himself Apollo. I don't know much about him other than that."

"I see," Quints nodded, picking the file up and leaning back in his chair like a comfortable tomcat; I almost expected him to kick his feet up on the table as he opened the file. I tried to see what was in it, but he was holding it at the wrong angle for that to be possible, "so, you have a last name?"

"Stark," I said, staring at my hands.

"Gabriel Stark," Quints said, flipping a page over in the file, "well, what can you tell me about the Winchesters, Gabriel?"

I stayed silent this time, glancing nervously up at Quints every now and then, subconsciously expecting a backlash from my silence, but all he did was look through the papers in the file before finally snapping the file shut, making me jump. Quints didn't comment on it, standing up so suddenly it made me jump again and flinch, but he didn't seem to notice that either, "well, I'll be right back to speak with you, Gabriel."

I watched him leave, waiting until he had closed the door before I leaned my head back on the chair and closed my eyes. My head was still pounding, but my Grace was already working its magic. I quickly grew uncomfortable and raised my head, staring miserably at the handcuffs. The only lawyer I knew was Sam, and not only did I not actually know him all that well but he never actually completed law school and if I asked for a lawyer, they would probably stick me with a bad one. If Sam was here, and he must be if they had his phone in an evidence bag, would I even be able to get them to let me be my lawyer?

My wings felt like a giant itch that I couldn't scratch, I had the most irritating pain from the feathers that were all over the place; I couldn't exactly fix them at the moment, and that was setting me on edge more than anything. I couldn't help but glance around every now and then, wondering if Amara could find me here and what she would do if she did; I wasn't certain of my hiding chances here.

I could always escape.

I was still contemplating my options when the door opened again and Quints walked in, closing the door behind him. He sat down in his chair and opened the file, "so, Gabriel Stark, care to explain to me why you have no record?"

"I've always been a law-abiding citizen," I said, shifting in my seat.

"No, I mean no record as in absolutely nothing," Quints said, "absolutely nothing, not even a birth certificate or a social security number."

"I was born in China as a second child during the single child policy."

"Uh-huh," Quints gave me a side eye, "you want to try that again?"

I gave him my best puppy eyes.

"So, what happened to your record, Gabriel? Did you have the Winchesters wipe it for you? Dean and Sam taking you under their little wings, training a successor since they have no family of their own to continue on their twisted little legacy?" Quints asked, leaning forward as if sharing a rumor at a sleepover, "come on, Gabriel, share the latest Winchester gossip."

The silence was crushing me, but I didn't respond. I've read psychology crap, I know that you can get more out of people that way, they naturally want to fill the silence.

"You were much more talkative last night," Quints said finally, leaning back in his seat, "do you really think the Winchesters would be this loyal to you as you seem to be to them, Gabe? Come on, buddy, I'm trying to be your friend here."

I glanced up, opened my mouth, changed my mind, closed my mouth, and glanced back down.

Too late; Quints locked on like a coondog who had treed a coon, "let me guess, Winchesters hop in, kill somebody, possibly a loved one of yours, convince you that that person who you cared so much about was a monster and that they saved your life and now you feel that you owe them. Maybe you were so cooperative that they gave you a Winchester hotline, just in case you run into somebody who acts a little too much like a monster, maybe looks like one, or maybe your mind makes up a connection," he waited, watching me carefully, "or maybe it's something else then?"

I shifted under his raptor like eyes, fidgeting.

"Maybe you're a bit odd yourself, somehow got on their radar," he waited, watching me squirm as it hit home, "they try to kill you, maybe you somehow convinced them you were a good monster and somehow that worked, they take you with them or maybe they stay just long enough to make sure you're as convinced as the people they've 'rescued' and 'saved' and maybe you start to believe it. Maybe you believe them. Tell me, Gabriel, what, exactly, do you think you are?"

...

* * *

...

My footsteps were fast paced and I ran a hand through my ebony hair as I exited the room with my handcuffed prisoner in tow. The golden haired man was silent, golden eyes zoned out as if in thought, but he walked as long as I made sure he knew where he was going, not showing any signs of pain when I accidentally pushed on his cuffed hands too hard as I had him walk in front of me, one of my hands on his shoulder, the other on his cuffed hands. I gave my fellows a warm grin as I passed.

"You done interrogating him, Leon?" a woman was sitting at the controls, Kathy, if I recall correctly; it seemed I knew everybody in the station by name, "cameras went a little weird for a second there."

"Must have been a technical problem," I simply grinned; I'm still trying to make sense of what happened myself, "look, I think they've already brainwashed this guy beyond anything less than a couple months of therapy. I'm just gonna put him with the others for now, he kind of shut down."

"Yeah, he didn't seem to be reacting well to the questioning," Kathy shrugged, "oh, well, try again tomorrow, right? We all get that one who just shuts down after the first few questions. He lawyer up?"

"Didn't even mention one, oddly enough," I shook my head before heading off, "see ya later, Kathy."

"Have a good day, Leon," she gave a little wave as I left.

I weaved through the station, making my way to the cells. I quickly spotted the Winchesters, the two of them both sitting on a bench in the cell, whispering amongst themselves. The officer in the room, a big brute looking man who was actually nicer than he seemed, glanced up from the newspaper he was going through, giving me a grin bright enough to match my own, "Leon! How's the fiancée going?"

"Amazing," I grinned back, "you know how it is, Bruce?"

He let out a happy laugh at that, "yeah, seeing you so happy around the station reminds me of when my wife and I were starting out, planning our wedding. You got a location in mind for the wedding yet?"

"We've got a couple ideas but it's not set in stone," I shrugged, "you know how it is. Want me to take over here for you? I'm gonna put this guy in, he freaked a little during questioning so I think some quiet time would do him wonders, but they got the other guy in the other cell so I'm gonna put him in here. Almost had a fight earlier between the two, don't want a repeat."

"That would be wonderful, Leon," he got up, stretching a little, "phew, my back ain't what it used to be. When you get to be my age, chasing down the baddies makes your feet sore. Get anything good?"

"As I said," I shrugged in a 'what-can-you-do?' manner, "kind of shut down, wouldn't give me anything about the Winchesters."

"Yeah, that charmer over there had everything to say except information," Bruce cast a look at the eldest Winchester, who gave him a smug grin, "Rita nearly punched his teeth in."

"Ouch," I chuckled at that.

"Yeah," and Bruce's grin was back in place, "got a verdict on the guy?"

"Not in the system, like, at all," I said, and the guy didn't even look at me, staring instead at the wall, "brainwashed like all the other people those guys have 'rescued' but maybe he's not too far for a couple months of therapy to help him out. Except, get this, apparently the Winchesters brainwashed him into thinking he's one of the monsters they hunt. He was pretty vague, so I'll try again tomorrow."

"Wait a minute," Bruce did a double take after glancing at the man I had in cuffs, "no way! Is that- that's the guy that called Walter- he called him Agent Assmunch! Haha, the guys were passing the video around during lunch. Did you see it?"

"Yes, I was the one he called Agent Motherdick," I grinned back at Bruce, "and the one who lent the Meme-God-Doesn't-Need-Pants fellow right here a pair of jeans."

Bruce laughed, "yeah, you tackled him right to the ground and he kept interrupting you while you tried to read him to the ground? What was he yelling? For his pimp lawyer?"

"I think he meant lawyer."

"No, there was definetly a pimp in that wording. Did you guys ever find the hampster he threw out the apartment building window?"

"Uh.. RIP little rodent?"

"You probably should get him in the cell," Bruce shook his head and tossed me the keys, "I better go get started on that mountain of paperwork I got."

"See ya, Bruce," I gave a little wave as he left before turning to the cell, the Winchesters eyeing me down as best they could, which was pretty intimidating. I gave Stark a little push, and he stumbled a bit before walking forward, pausing when I yanked him to a stop so that I could figure out which key went in the door, "hey, wait right here a minute will ya?"

He didn't respond but he didn't try to run either.

"Awesome, thanks, in you go," I said, getting the door open and shoving him in before locking the door.

He stumbled a bit before righting himself, turning to stare after me.

"Oh, you'll be fine," I assured him, sitting down at the table and pulling up the evidence box that Bruce had left near the table, "let's see..."

I spared a glance over at the cell at the sound of hushed whispering, smirking a bit as the Winchesters spoke to a dumbstruck Stark, pausing as I reached back to scratch an itch near my back. I couldn't reach it so I forgot about it and started going through the box.

"Hey!" there was a sharp clang as Dean hit the bars with his hand. He seemed to get angrier when I ignored him and he hit the bars again, "hey! I'm talking to you!"

"Yes?" I asked innocently, pausing to pull out the file tucked beneath my arm and opening it. A lot of stuff on the Winchester case, a lot of things copied from Federal documents to help; I leaned back in my seat and started to read through it, starting with the earliest stuff and planning on working my way up.

"What did you say to him!? Why isn't he talking!? What's wrong with him!?"

I glanced over at them, "merely stated the facts to him."

"As in?"

"As in classified," I couldn't help the smirk, "maybe you should ask him yourself."

Dean did just that, turning towards the shortest man in the cell with a rather intimidating expression and started his own interrogation, with sharp words and meaningless threats, softened only by the occasional scolding from the younger but taller Winchester, who got in his own interrogation using kinder words, though they all seemed to go way over the poor little shortie's head, the little guy simply staring at the Winchesters with a blank expression.

I couldn't help but grin, getting comfortable as I started to read through the file.


	17. Chapter 17

(I don't own Supernatural)

"Hey, Leon."

I glanced up from the file, "oh, hey, Rita, heard you almost punched out the Winchester."

She rolled her eyes, moving her ponytail behind her after it fell over her shoulder, "you would have wanted to punch his teeth in too, even with your optimism. Anyways, most everybody's heading home about now cept for the guys with Graveyard shift; want me to find somebody to take over here?"

"Nah, I've got it," I shook my head and waved the file up like a trophy, "this is the case of a lifetime, Rita, the Feds could take it over at any minute."

She grinned and laughed at my wide smile, "alright, see you tomorrow, Leon."

I turned back to the file as she left; I finished the last couple pages and closed the file with a flourish, "I have to say, Winchesters, your file is a real doozy."

"Who the Hell uses the word doozy anymore?"

"So, you're getting married?" the younger Winchester decided to strike up a conversation.

"Yep," my smile grew, "to a beautiful angel of a woman, Angela Solace. Proposed to her last week. You guys ever want to settle down?"

"Couple times."

"Well, I'd say you kind of missed the boat," I gave one last run through of the file, "too bad, really. Sam, you were gonna be lawyer, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, how exactly did you go from wanting to put people behind bars to being the person behind bars?"

"Hey, cut your psych crap," Dean snapped before Sam could answer, "we save people, that's what we do. We shouldn't be here. Now tell me what you did to Gabe."

"All we did was talk," I said, "well, I did most of the talkin- ah!" I cut off, feeling a sharp spike of pain go through my head. Something warm dribbled from my nose and when I reached up and touched it my hand came back red. It didn't seem like a full out nosebleed, so I simply grabbed some tissues from a nearby tissue box and wiped the blood off my face.

The Winchesters had stiffened considerably, watching me carefully. Ah, perhaps the dementions their father had raised them to believe had just labeled me as one of their monsters, how strange. I wondered what else could set them off, but I didn't do anything more than toss the tissue into the trash and sat back down at my seat. When I get home, I'll see if I can find some Tylenol or ibuprofen, because my head was starting to pound.

An annoying buzzing had started up in my ears, a shrill note that made me cringe, and I glanced around for the culprit but saw nothing. I grabbed the keys, sticking them in my pocket as I leaped to my feet, an action that made the Winchesters also leap up, tense and prepared for a fight, "what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You two aren't the cause of that sound?"

"What sound?"

"That s-" everything went black for me.

* * *

I've got legs, a body, body check, yes, got a body. Kidneys? Yep. Heart? Yeperdoodle.

My wings knocked over a box full of bagged stuff and swept a familiar file across the room, much more comfortable as they unfurled from my back. I ran a hand through my hair, unused to such short hair compared to my usual. I rubbed my head as I sat up completely before getting to my feet and checking my pockets. Keys. Yes, I have keys. I sent out a pulse of Grace the way it does when I get angry and my ears could hear the systems fizzle out, but I allowed the lights to stay.

"Hey, what's going on? You have diabetes or something?"

"Dean, that isn't how diabetes works," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.

Check, check, soul's okay, kind of squished with the two of us, though, but if I finished this up quick he'd be fine.

"Grab him, will you?" I gestured to my usual vessel, who appeared entirely unimpressed with this whole process; I almost dropped the keys but finally I got them and found the correct one that fit, unlocking the cell.

"You believe us?" Sam asked, sounding absolutely shocked by this new development.

"Don't just let him wander off," I scolded them as a slight jostle sent my empty vessel into walk mode and he tried to walk through a wall, and I had to reach into the cell and pull my wayward body out of the cell, "what part of grab him do you two not understand?"

"What are you?" Dean growled.

"We don't have time for paranoia, Deaners," I said, shoving my vessel forward, "walk."

I could sense them bristle and so I quickly added, "relax, he doesn't care, watch this," I twisted his arm behind his back and didn't even get a squeak, "lights are on, nobody is home."

The brothers shared a look before Dean spoke, "you're a Hunter?"

"Guys, it's me," I rolled my eyes before turning and pulling the bars apart wide enough for somebody to slip through, "Gabriel? Okay, so you guys need to punch me now, like, knock out punch, right here, stand inside the cell though, make it good, but don't do serious damage, got it? I don't want to ruin this guy's life."

"Uh, yeah, yeah, sure, uh, how did you, uh, possess him?"

"Asked a question of my own while he was interrogating me, don't think he took it seriously," I shrugged, "I have to leave before his soul burns up, so I'll see you guys outside, bring my suit, I have one more guy to jailbreak."

"Wait, Gab-"

I left in a flash of white, leaving them to their task of punching the vessel I had just been using.

* * *

Apollo could have gotten himself out, but me going over and breaking the cameras was the very thing he had been waiting for, teleporting out the very second the cameras were out. I circled back around to the now almost empty room with the cell, checking on Quints to make sure his little bout as my vessel hadn't killed him, satisfied when I found him passed out on the floor with a black eye and a bloody lip but otherwise alright. He was a good man, and I didn't want to ruin his life.

I found that moving around without a vessel was easier than flying, just kind of hovering everywhere like a ghost, but I couldn't do anything really, so I really wanted to get back to my vessel.

The second the systems had gone out the station had sent up the alarm, especially considering that two high-priority criminals with a high escape rate were in custody. I was enormous in this form and easily saw the little ant sized vehicles moving towards the station. The very idea that I could fit in my little vessel seemed astonishing to me, realizing for the first time just how huge my true form actually was; even if I had had my memory, it had been thousands upon thousands of years since I was outside of a vessel.

I moved to find the Winchesters, wondering if I could pick them up and move them myself, but somebody must have beat me to it for both the brothers and my meatsuit were gone. I swiveled all my ferocious heads around trying to find them, having to be careful as my wings, stretching far across the earth, nearly summoned a tornado in tornado alley with a mere flutter.

I immensely wished that there was a giant mirror that I could use to see myself, for I remember that, in religion, my catch phrase seemed to be 'don't be afraid' so I really wanted to see if I was as ferocious as the many heads I could see with my other heads told me I was. Well, they didn't really tell me, since they're me, but you get the point.

I could downsize into trails of Grace as well, which was much easier to move around as without causing a disaster or having to lean down to peer at the tiny little people, plus I could also cover more ground this way. Both the Winchesters and my suit were warded from angels, so unless I just happened to stumble across them I figured it was a lost cause. The thought of returning to my Quints vessel crossed my mind, but I didn't know if his soul could take it. Having been my vessel would have promised him a good spot in Heaven when he dies, so the risk hadn't been too much to ask in my opinion, but he still had his life to live and I already had an empty home to return to.

I wandered a tiny bit in Grace form, spreading out like fog over a range of several miles in the double digits range before condensing into my true form, towering way higher than the Empire State Building in height. I was so busy searching that I almost didn't notice the thing coming towards me from behind, a single missed realization having slipped my mind.

I was a much bigger target this way and much easier to see.

The heads on the back of my neck saw it coming, and I turned in time for it to barrel into me, sharp claws grabbing on to my wings and lifting me into the air with a single flap of their powerful wings. All six of their wings were blackened, like the couple of feathers on my wings that had been from the fire, though it seemed all of their feathers on all of their wings had been burned and with only a single flap of those six, dark wings we were skimming the barrier between Earth and Space.

The being's Grace curled around my own like an old friend, but I flailed, trying to get away even though the entity's grip on me was not painful. Their feathers were damp, as if they had spent time in water. They seemed to be hugging me, a sense of comfort and relief and love flooding from them, like the love Sam and Dean have for each other, the love between siblings.

I was not feeling up for a family reunion and so I reared the coyote head and bit down on the nearest wing when it flapped too close.

My sibling howled in shock and pain, but the plan succeeded in granting me my freedom from their grip. I beat feet- er, beat wings I guess- out of there, hardly glancing back. It was about then that I heard the soothing sound of a horn coming from the North, close, and so, like a moth to a flame, I switched into Grace mode and escaped towards the beacon, leaving the floundering Archangel behind me to stare miserably after me.

* * *

I wasted no time fitting right into my vessel, scrambling around in it before righting myself and fitting in like shoving my hand into a fitted glove. My wings unfurled and I opened my eyes, taking a moment to reconfigure and get readjusted to using a vessel. The symbol on the wall across from me, the symbol of my horn, was the first thing I noticed in the motel room. The second thing was the two, ebony wings sprouting from the back of the stranger staring at me, their head slightly tilted.

I recognized the wings from one of the first memories returned to me. At the time, they had been tiny, like the fluffy little wings of a baby bird, belonging to the little creature I had had tucked in my arms. I wondered if he ever knew that I had tried to take him with me; would he hate me for failing or would he hate that I had even tried? The wings were big now, easily as wide a wingspan as my top pair of wings, or perhaps smaller.

His eyes held wariness, gaze flickering onto my wings at the same time my gaze flickered to his. It was the first time since waking up in the alley that someone has been able to see my wings without me making them visible.

His gaze met mine as our eyes met and he gave me a respectful nod, "Gabriel."

I took a step forward, eyes glancing back at those wings as if for confirmation. When had he gotten so big? Had I missed all of that? He'd grown up without me?

"It is good to see you, Gabriel," Castiel said and he gestured his head to the two Hunters standing near the wall, "Dean informed me that you were not dead. That is... fortunate."

I practically lunged forward, bringing the angel into a hug that probably would have crushed a mortal, and he squeaked in surprise as I wrapped my wings around him.

"He, uh, informed me that you weren't yourself," he said, staring at me.

But eventually he hugged me back.


	18. Chapter 18

(I don't own Supernatural Have any of you ever read A Dog's Purpose? It is my favorite book of all time since I was, like, in sixth or seventh grade (I'm currently almost through the first semester of eleventh grade) and this book, if you read it, you will cry and you will laugh and I am currently crying because they are turning it into a movie and my little brain cannot handle this, I can't, I can't do it, now I'm crying harder and I don't know if it's because I'm really happy or if I'm imagining the book on the big screen because my friend made me watch the trailer and I'm screaming, "ETHAN, ETHAN, ETHAN, JAKOB, JAKOB, JAKOB, ETHAN, ETHAN, BAILEY, BAILEY, BUDDY, TOBY, BUDDY, ELLIE, ELLIE, ELLIE" and I can't do it, I can't do this, I can't. I don't know what's going on, everything's been flipped, I need to watch this movie, I need to, I'm going to cry from title screen to credits, but I need it, help, I can't. I can barely write, help! I can't do this!)

Dean was absolutely against Castiel teleporting them back to the motel, which meant we were taking the Impala. I took one look at Castiel's wings, pictured us both fitting in that backseat, and decided to nope the fuck out as claustrophobia rose up in me.

I grit my teeth and started looking for anything I could climb, but the warehouse was in the middle of a field, which meant walking.

"Gabriel!" Dean snapped, leaning his arms on the top of his car, "we don't have all day, get in the car!"

I turned my eyes to the sky nervously. I had recognized the thing that had pulled my true form up.

Lucifer.

Which was worse? Running into the guy who'd killed me and would probably do it again? Or the car from which I would be trapped in if he found me again and came for me? One look at the Winchesters though and I decided that maybe I would be safer in numbers, I mean, they kicked my brother's ass before, right? Maybe?

Cas was lucky; his one set of wings easily fit without consequence, pulled in on his back without two other sets to contend with.

"Scoot over," I sighed.

"But I am already all the way over?"

I took a deep breath and hopped in the car, trying to pull all my wings in and failing majorly; Father must have learned his lesson about what worked by the time he'd made the angels, only giving them one set of wings.

"I was unaware that riding in the backseat with an Archangel consisted of all their feathers in my face," Cas frowned.

"You're a lot funner when you're just a little, sleeping kid in my arms," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"When I tried to leave and-" I trailed off, "you know what, just forget it, working so far for me, I don't remember much of anything!"

"That is not funny."

"I like to think that it is," I replied, trying to pull my wings in as much as I could, but the bottom and middle pair was spilling over the seats because I knew from experience that sitting on them in the seat of a car just didn't work. I glanced out the window at the sky warily before scooting over to the middle.

Cas gave me a look as he got a bit squished with all the wings shoved into the backseat, "can't you just... put them somewhere else?"

"Sure, let me just cut them all off, or maybe I can just tuck them away in my shirt," I said sarcastically. Man, if I still had my belts, I could just force them to stay out of my way, but the Maples didn't let me have belts anymore and confiscated the ones I had; but... the Maples weren't here, "hey, any of you have a belt?"

"Cassandra was very insistent on the idea that you're not allowed to have belts," Sam said without even glancing back at me.

"Was there a don't let Gabe have a belt memo that I missed?" I grumbled, "what if my pants are falling, do I just use a vine like some sort of Tarzan?"

"Apparently," Dean said from the driver's seat, "why aren't you allowed to have a belt?"

"Um, that's a- that's a long story, actually."

"Good, we have the entire time back to the motel," he didn't relent, putting his curiosity first, "so why are you on a belt ban?"

My wings all twitched, fluttering a bit, and Cas huffed and moved his arm to block the wing from hitting his face when one of them kind of almost suffocated his face. He gave me a look but I didn't say anything, falling into shutdown mode as I remembered the life I was living before the Maples back when I kept my wings bound, night after night after night, huddled inside a box, staring out at the world as it moved on without me, the cold, rainy nights, the blizzards that long winter, the constant ache and chill in all six wings, the fear that at any minute some discreet car would pull up to reclaim their lab experiment and cart me away for experiments or maybe some cruel person would enter the alley while I was sleeping and kill me or worse. My wings trembled and I pulled them in as much as I could and scooted back to my original spot next to the window behind Sam's seat.

"Gabriel? You gonna tell us or what?" Dean spoke up.

But now that I was thinking about that, remembering that time, all the worries rose up. I almost expected to wake up at any moment in that box, huddled under mountains of snow- oh, Father, mountains. The entire thing falling on top of the First and I, buried in the dark all alone, the only sounds being the echo of the dragon's bones crunching and her dying shriek of terror and agony on repeat in my ears, wondering if I would ever see light again. I did that, I did that to her. What else have I done? Did I even care?

"Gabe?"

The sides of the car seemed to press in, mountain all around.

...

...

 **I was confused, really confused. What had I done so wrong?**

 **I tried to howl, but it turned into a muffled yelp, the sword digging in. The chains pulled me down, wouldn't let me up, wouldn't let me be comfortable. The walls were all around me, mocking me, trapping me, dooming me. I was alone. I was always alone.**

 **Odin hadn't believed me when I told him Fenrir wouldn't eat him and now I was trapped, till Rognarok as far as Odin was concerned.**

 **The walls were all around me, mocking and cruel. It seemed like they were closing in.**

 **I tried to howl again but it turned into a yelp yet again.**

 **What had I done to deserve this?**

 **...**

...

I jumped, surprised and terrified, wings almost snapping out and taking up the entire back seat as they yearned to flap wildly like a panicked bird. The last time a memory had slipped through without Apollo's help was right before I slaughtered Zeus. I went intangible and fell right through the car door, skidding on pavement before momentum left me and I was up and running. The Impala screeched to a stop, but I was already scaling a tree like a squirrel, kicking off of it and taking to the sky.

The open, open sky, with no chains to hold me down.

* * *

I felt horrible about freaking out like that, and it showed on my face when Cas, my Cas, opened the motel door after I knocked on it. She ushered me in without a word, concern on her face.

"We might have to move on from this town," I said as she handed me some paper towels for my bloody nose and Sera tossed me a towel that I wrapped around my shoulders and clung onto. There was a fountain outside the motel and of course I crashed right into it face first when I tried to land, so I was soaked as well as scratched up, "Apollo and I ran into Dionysus last night and kind of got arrested, except the Winchesters got arrested too-"

"We know," Sera spoke up, grabbing another towel for me, "we ran into a coven of witches, but they knew we were coming. We think they might have a psychic among them or working for them; the police were there when we got there but Cas and I got out without being noticed."

I nodded, feeling absolutely miserable. I heard the sound of the Impala pulling up and I pulled my wings in, subconsciously trying to seem as small and unthreatening as possible. The Winchesters and Castiel were going to be pissed.

"Let me see," Cassandra said, squeezing the excess water out of a paper towel and motioning for me to move the bloody paper towels away from my face. I did, silent as she scrubbed the blood off my face, "you need to work on your landing skills, Gabe, it's getting too cold for you to be taking nose dives into water."

"I know," I muttered, "I'm getting better at the flying part as long as I've got something to glide on, though."

"Is Apollo with you?"

"I don't know where he is," I said honestly, "and to be honest, I'm not sure if I care right now."

The door slammed open so quickly Sera had her gun up and pointing but Cas barely jumped, having heard the Impala too.

"Gabriel ditched u- oh, he's already here," Dean glowered at me, "what, my baby ain't good enough for you?"

I averted my eyes.

"Leave my angel alone," Sera said, lowering her gun before raising it again when she saw Castiel, "Dean-"

"This is our Cas," Dean introduced, motioning to Castiel, "our angel."

Sera grudgingly lowered her gun but she seemed a tad bit disappointed that she didn't get to shoot anybody.

"Care to explain why you dived out of my car?"

"I am also confused over that," Castiel said, turning his eyes on me, gaze piercing.

I looked down but Cassandra chided me for it, saying she needed to make sure my nose wasn't broken.

"What happened?" Castiel asked, glancing over at the blood covering a majority of the bottom of my face that Cassandra was working on cleaning off so she could see the state of my nose and had already gotten most of, not trusting me to fix my own nose if it was broken.

"Gabe just has, uh, landing issues is all," Cassandra said, twisting my nose back into place and handing me a bunch of paper towels as it started gushing blood.

"Is that why he is wet?"

"Did you guys find Apollo? Hopefully run him over on the way here?" I changed the topic away from my flying and landing skills, which are so bad that it's sad. I mean, come on! I have six wings! Shouldn't that make flying easier!?

"Thought he was still at the jail to be honest," Sam, who'd gotten the tail end of that conversation, ducked into the room with the Impala's license plate in hand, which he exchanged for a different license plate before heading back outside.

I stared at the ground until Cassandra scolded me and told me to pinch my nose (no, Cas, I don't plan on bleeding out and being the Archangel who died from a bloody nose, pretty sure that's not how it works) and glared at me until I listened.

What if Lucifer had found the pagan? Then I would never get my memories back. But was that really a bad thing?

"So, the witches, we going back after them?" Sam re-entered the room, dropping a duffel bag on the bed he shared with Dean, opening it to reveal several assorted weapons, "now that Cas is here, maybe he can block whoever's been scrying on us so we can take them by surprise this time. You can do that, right, Cas?"

"It would be easier if we had the old Gabriel, he'd probably find them much quicker than I can," Castiel said without glancing at me, "but yes, I can probably help."

"Crowley can make it go faster, right?" Dean popped the top off a beer bottle and took a swig.

"Crowley was traveling with me, yes," Castiel said, "but he said something about something going on in Hell and left. Apparently one of his top dealers got smited several months ago, but Crowley's demons just now started looking into the disappearance, which he didn't seem too happy about. They didn't like the demon very much, apparently, said he was a jerk, even for a demon."

My Grace had ceased my nose bleed by now and so I tossed the paper towels into the trash and moved to the kitchenish sink to wash the blood off my hands. My mind kept wandering back to Lucifer, but it was probably too late to mention him now; Lucifer was probably miles away by now, so I really shouldn't worry about it.

I glanced over to see Castiel standing upright with his eyes closed; I could feel his Grace moving past me, searching for the witches' psychic. I wanted to help, but I wasn't sure how to use my Grace effectively yet and couldn't do much more than make things explode so I didn't even move to assist him in his search. My expression soured as I scrubbed at my hands; the old Gabriel could have done better, the old Gabriel was so cool! News flash, kiddo, I'm still Gabriel! So what if I couldn't do all the things I used to know how to do? I wasn't useless.

Well, not completely, at least.

I think.

I was careful shutting the water off, since I had a previous history of breaking things when I started using too much force, which was prone to happen when somebody's in a bad mood, me or otherwise, since I can pick up on emotions; I'm still trying to figure out if what I'm feeling sometimes is from somebody else or if it's what I'm feeling. This time I think it's my own emotions.

"Got it," Castiel said, the tendrils of Grace he had spread out returning to him now that their mission was accomplished, "the psychic has been dispatched, she will not see you coming, so the witches will not foretell your approach."

"Thanks, Cas," Dean clapped the angel on the shoulder and grabbed a gun, "let's go kill those sons of bitches."

I was the first one through the door, especially after Cas commented that he was going to go first. No way, hosay, let the Archangel scope things out this time. I can be useful, and I was going to prove it.

I shifted easily to the side as I spotted he first witch, and Sam was quick to dispatch her with a single shot.

My keen hearing picked up chanting and I motioned to the others and they nodded.

A sharp gasp from behind me made me whip around, knuckles white on the angel blade that Cas had given me, but I felt a hand on my shoulder turn me back around before I could see what the problem was, "don't look, Gabe, okay? Sera, you too, don't turn around."

"Okay, Cas," I told Cassandra, trusting her judgement.

"They're the missing people," I heard Castiel say, "they're all dead."

"People? Cas, these aren't people, they're-"

"Sshh," Cassandra shushed him before he could get the words out, "Sera and I had a case like this once. Spells are more powerful with... newer ingredients.. so these ones made newer ingredients. Let's kill these sick bastards, huh?"

"Of course they're dead! Look at them! The sick assholes ripped them apart!"

Sera took a deep breath beside me, stopping me when I tried to turn around to see what they were talking about, "come on, Gabe."

I heard the creak of a floorboard, slight and small, but nothing could escape my ears and my head snapped up to face the threat. I hadn't even noticed that the chanting had stopped. I was ready before the door even opened and I made my wings visible as I snapped them out, blocking everyone else that stood behind me so that they would not be blinded as I smited the witches. They had made Cas sad, and so they would pay for it.

Their combined spell was too late to save them as thy dropped to the ground, their very souls puffed out of existence.

It was not too late for the spell to hit me like a semi.


	19. Chapter 19

(I don't own Supernatural)

...

...

 **"Oh, no, you don't," he smiled as I came to life, swooping me up as I tried to run off, big grin on my face, "you must never wander off, Gabriel."**

 **"Daddy!" I squealed, grabbing his face and pulling on his beard with glee.**

 **"Owowowow, here," he handed me off to the six winged being beside him, "here, Lucifer, meet your new brother."**

 **"Look at you," Lucifer cooed to me, spinning me around and making me squeal with laughter, "surely he is too cute for anything to hurt him, Father, look at him! Amara would just eat you right up!"**

 **"That's exactly what she would do, so don't let him wander," Father's eyes darkened.**

 **I stared at him, wondering what ferocious monstrosity could possibly cause that feeling in my Father and an even bigger one in my brother.**

 **Father ran his hand over my coyote head before resting it on one of my head's forehead and he mumbled the name again as his hand glowed, "Amara," and I felt the feeling rise up in me tenfold.**

 **I trembled, eyes wide.**

 **"The feeling is called Fear, Gabriel," Father told me, "remember it if you ever see her. You must never face her, especially alone."**

 **...**

 **.**...

I wasn't sure where I was.

There was a sharp pain in my chest, as if Lucifer had stabbed me all over again, but when I looked down there was nothing. My wings burned and I allowed them to go back to usual as I took in my surroundings, panting as if I had just got down hyperventilating.

There was nothing to worry about, the only being in the room a twenty year old looking woman that was running a paintbrush across a canvas; the room looked odd, every inch of the wall covered with notes and paintings. The window was barred and when I tried the door it was locked.

My gaze flickered back to the only other being in the room. A large set of wings drooped on her back, so transparent that I could only notice the shimmering gold of her feathers when I was focusing on her wings. The feathers were dull, as if all the life had been sucked out of them. Every now and then her gaze would flicker to the window and then to me, so she knew I was there but had yet to say anything; a bird in a cage, she seemed to be.

I pulled one of the notes off the wall to examine the calm, neat writing.

 _The current president is Jackie Shill._

That... wasn't right. Trying to shake the uneasy feeling in my gut, I put the sticky note back in its place on the wall and glanced at another; _Truce between Weres and Fangs disbanded, now known as Truce of '63._ The 63 had been crossed out and replaced with a 1663 with a question mark and a note on how it had been sometime in the 1600's. I glanced at another; _M walk back to wall, exits in mind._

"Don't be afraid," the woman spoke, dipping her brush in golden paint that I was pretty sure hadn't been golden just a second ago, "give me a bit of variety with the wings?"

"Um, what?" I turned to face her but she motioned for me to turn around.

"No, turn to the window, spread your wings behind you a bit in varying positions- go stand over there, will you? Perfect, thank you, tilt your head a little; you're a bird in a cage, staring out at a freedom beyond your reach, reminiscing on happier times," she glanced up, her eyes a mix of gold and bronze, then they were flickering back to her work, "perfect. Stay?"

It was easy for me to stand motionless; archangels have no need for fidgeting as mortals do, though I often did, fidget I mean. The room delved into silence, quiet but for the sound of her brush running across the canvas.

"Done."

I jumped at the voice after such a long silence, especially considering that the voice sounded masculine; I glanced over, shocked to see a man instead of a woman, his hair short where hers had been long, ebony locks hanging over his eyes where hers had been a deep red and had been tucked neatly behind her ears. The only thing the two had in common were the gold/bronze eyes and the glittering wings on their back.

"J-just a second ago-" I gaped, "that woman? Where- How did she leave- when?"

"Was I?" he wondered aloud, "hm, sorry, I forget sometimes."

"Forget?"

"What I look like," he said casually, changing again as he turned towards a wall with painting on hand. The tall, young man with his light brown hair in a buzz cut had no problem reaching up and hanging the painting in the only clear space left on the walls, "I forget what I'm supposed to be, how I'm supposed to look. I don't remember what I look like, not anymore. I don't make self portraits, so I don't have to worry about it, you see. Recognition seems to lay in looks, but my recognition looks to their walk, their expressions, their manners."

She turned around, pulling long blue hair into a ponytail and I could only stare at how quickly she changed without missing a beat.

"You can tell a lot about a person by their mannerisms," she ran a hand across a painted portrait of golden eyed young man, his golden eyes holding confidence, and it changed, turning into a golden eyed, golden Maine coon cat, a silver collar around the feline's neck, "things change, you see, they change a lot. I was kicked from the flow of it. Everything is different, every day, I just don't remember how."

I stared at the painting of the cat where a man had once smiled out with an impish grin, the note next to the painting seeming to mock its reader with the tear stains that littered it, the writing of a different handwriting than all the others, big dark letters where all the others held small, light writing; _Can't come back, don't wait up. Sorry._

Another note was next to it, in the same handwriting as the others instead of the tear-stained note; _He took his name with him when he left, he won't let me write it._ I glanced at the one beside it, one with little crossed out numbers, counting up before a big X had simply been drawn through them all with an added bit at the bottom; _Too many centuries. I hid his name._

"It's important," she clarified, glancing at the note and back at the painting, "I have his name still, I know, I didn't write a note of its location, I didn't write why."

"Why do you have all these notes?"

Her eyes scoured the notes, "my memory resets at midnight every day, I write them to remember, in the only way I can."

"Why?"

He glanced at me, this time his face looking younger, though he still seemed to be a twenty year old and his hair was ebony again, "my friend was the one who came up with the notes. He has something to do with it, but it isn't his fault. I didn't get the chance to write down what happened, so I don't know why."

"Do you... do you remember anything?" I tried to kick down the door but it didn't budge, more than a match even for my enhanced strength.

"Yes, very old memories, they blur, from before the reset began. I used to have the best memory among my family, I had to, I was the Messenger."

"You don't happen to know where we are, do you?"

He glanced at one of the hundreds of notes, "it's an asylum, the name has faded..." he picked up a pen and started tracing over what words were left on the faded sticky note before he sat down on the plain bed and picked up a set of sticky notes, beginning to scribble away on the top one.

"Who... do you remember who you are?"

"Of course," he glanced at me, the only physical difference between the two of us being his transparent wings and multicolored eyes, "I'm you."

"W-what?" I could feel the exact moment when my heart dropped with dread, "what do you mean I'm you?"

"Well," and then he was different again, a chiseled face with blonde surfer hair, not even glancing up as he scribbled away, "not exactly you. You must have gotten hit with something real strong to get thrown through the thick walls between dimensions."

"Oh," I took on a different kind of dread, "so, uh, you're me, a different dimension me?"

"Mhm," he pulled off the top sticky note and stuck it right on the portrait he had painted of me before starting on the next one, "why?"

"You seem quite calm with meeting a you from another dimension," I, meanwhile, had to sit down next to him on the edge of his white sheeted bed, the only thing in the room not covered with notes besides the floor. Another dimension? Was this guy serious? But he did say we were in an asylum, so maybe the spell the witches combined to throw at me had just thrown me somewhere else like any angel banishing sigil would to an angel and this guy was just taking it all in stride.

"I've seen much stranger things... I think."

"Okay, say I believe you-"

"Sure, because I'm in a ward so obviously I'm just some crazy person that just so happens to shapeshift and has wings," he cast a glare at me, his wings peeking up just a bit before drooping again, a sad look falling on his face as he glanced at the single note on the ceiling, placed right above his pillow, "Gabriel, that's my name. I'm guessing it is yours as well?"

I glanced up at the note, staring at it with wide eyes, "you need a note to remember said lyour name?"

"Don't pity me," he growled, the first fire I'd seen this whole time from him sparking alive in his eyes... before falling dim and dousing itself.

I glanced at the barred window then back at him, wondering what it would be like to be in this Gabriel's shoes: wake up in a strange room all alone, notes and paintings all over the place, the door locked and the window barred, unable to go anywhere, maybe spend a couple hours reading all the notes after calming down, all these notes. Then what? Spend the rest of the day alone, staring at them all with nothing but a couple canvases, paints, pens and sticky notes? I would break down if I woke to something like this. I glanced at his drooping, transparent wings, wondering if that's what would happen to mine if I was just... alone. For years. For Dad knows how long. "Does... does anybody come to visit?"

He pointed to an area of notes, "there's something over there."

I glanced at the first three.

 _Nothing happens._

 _Footsteps outside room; don't worry, they don't come in._

 _I had a visitor, called himself Psych, look to back wall._

"Sometimes something happens, I assume, " the other Gabriel said, "like today."

"Oh," I practically whispered, not able to swallow the lump in my throat, "so you just..."

"Sit and think," he said bitterly, "but I guess it would be a lie to say it gets old."

I couldn't find it in me to respond. What words could possibly help? He'd just forget them, doomed to day after day of the same exact thing, a never-ending loop. And I thought my memory problem was a major problem.

"I'm hoping you didn't come all this way to listen to me sulk," he pulled a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes, but didn't look up as he scribbled away on a second sticky note, "not that I don't appreciate the company, but I would kill for some positivity. So tell me, other me, what brought you here?"

So I told him, and after that I told him about my adventures as he scribbled away, eager for new information. He even stayed in one form throughout it.

It was quiet but for the scratch of pen across paper when I was done speaking and all his questions had been asked. The silence made me uneasy.

"So... is there anything you want to do? That you can't normally do?" I pulled me feet up, laying my arms across my knees as I sat on his bed.

"Are you suggesting I do you?" he said sarcastically, "sorry, but I have morals against fucking myself. As in, I just don't do it. You're nice eye candy and all, so no offense but-"

"N-N-No!" I stammered quickly, "that's not what I meant, I swear!"

He glanced up from his sticky note and around the room before looking back to the note and resuming his quick writing, "there isn't anything else new that I can do, so what **did** you mean by it?"

"I... don't know."

"I could get you home, maybe," he said casually, "I guess that's new."

"What!? You couldn't have helped me out earlier!?"

"I'm lonely, what can I say?" she shrugged, a girl now with a scarlet pixie cut.

I kind of felt bad for yelling, since he- er, she, uh, whatever this Gabriel identifies as at any given moment, "so, are you a female or a male?"

"Archangels don't have genders," she responded, "I'm the same as you in that regard."

"Oh," yeah, I guess that makes sense, "so you can really get me home?"

"Are you sure you want to? I've gone through dimensions before, it sucks more than getting wings ripped off."

"I'm sure," I said.

Her scribbling stopped before resuming as she returned to writing, quickly getting everything out on a sticky note before she gathered them all up and stuck them on the painting she had done of me, "okay. I'll help you. Us Gabriels have to stick together, right?"

He turned, hair in the same style still but golden now, and grabbed my hands, closing his eyes and focusing intently. The color drained from his face, his own strange Grace not up to par, "can I borrow some of yours?"

"Uh, sure?"

A presence latched onto my Grace, sapping at it just slightly, and the color slowly returned to my alternate self's face. A sharp spike of pain went through my gut as a pounding started up in my ears.

* * *

I was laying on the floor of an empty house, the bodies gone but some blood still on the floor where it was stained in. Some of the furniture was overturned and somebody had smashed most of the dished in the kitchen against the wall.

My wings felt heavy, like when they're saturated with water; my limbs felt just as heavy, but I managed to get outside and I didn't get very far before I collapsed on the side of tthe road, wings sprawled out behind me, lacking the strength to pull them in. No wonder he had asked if I was sure that I wanted to go home. I felt weaker than I ever remember feeling.

I'm not sure how long I was laying there before I noticed the figure now towering over me and I'm not sure how long they had been standing there, though I knew they hadn't been there for a majority of the time.

"I've got you," he said, reaching down and easily picking me up bridal style, holding me against his chest, my wings dragging against the ground, "it's okay, now. I'm going to make you better."

I couldn't find the energy to respond, my head feeling as full of fog as my voice.

I simply stared up at his six, black wings.


	20. Chapter 20

(I don't own Supernatural. I've been grounded, will soon be grounded again, but I managed to churn this out. I also have a Christmas special I'll be posting up on my profile, but as I said, grounded and been grounded. I'll let you know when special is up.)

I take back what I said on archangels not being able to puke, because I'm pretty sure by this point all I'm doing is dry heaving. The entire puking experience scared me so much I'd tried to get away from my brother like I kept doing off and on every time I found a hidden stash of energy within me; like he did every time, he'd simply hugged me to his chest, pinning me until my struggling and squirming stopped and I returned to my exhausted state while he rubbed the area on my spine between my wings in an attempt at comfort. We hadn't moved from the motel room bathroom because every now and then I would start puking all over again, dry heaving since I'd already emptied my vessel's stomach multiple times already. If there is one thing that I know, it's that I don't ever want to travel between dimensions again.

"See, if you'd have come with me, none of this would have happened, now would it have?"

I tried to get out a 'Go back to Hell' but I think I ended up just thinking it instead of saying it. Fortunate, I guess, since he'd already killed me once so I probably shouldn't tick him off because he would probably have no problem doing it again.

I decided that I didn't feel like I would puke again, for the moment at least, and so I tried to stand up on my own, pushing my brother away when he tried to help, his eyes watching me carefully for any sign of an escape plan. I took a step and crumpled and he stepped in to catch me as I fell.

His hand brushed against the scar from where he had stabbed me, where he'd killed me, and I violently recoiled, falling to the floor in a feathery heap as I scrambled in the opposite direction.

"Hey, it's okay," he promised, picking my limp form up and moving me to the bed farthest from the window, "I've got a different agenda this time, Gabe, so you're not in the way this time. I don't have to kill you again if you don't get in my way."

I simply trembled from fear and exhaustion. I wasn't too sure if I was scared for myself... or of what Lucifer would do when the Hunters returned to their motel room.

Maybe it was a bit of fear of both situations.

"Don't you worry," he booped me on the nose, "once you're feeling better you'll be able to help me! Wouldn't that be great, Gabriel?"

No; I didn't speak my answer, just let my heavy eyes close.

"So you'd better get better real quick, because there's a lot to do, little brother," he smiled at me, his Grace curling around mine in a gesture of comfort. His Grace seemed as familiar to me as my own and Castiel's Grace did, and maybe that's why I grabbed onto his arm when he moved to stand up, taking his Grace with him, -or maybe I wanted to see if I had enough strength to snap his arm, which I think was much more likely- but whatever the reason, the shock was evident on his face though I was too exhausted for absolutely anything to register on my own face.

He seemed to take it as a sign of sibling affection, misinterpreting it as a sign of the adoration I once held for him like any younger sibling would have for an older sibling, and he carefully pried my death grip off his arm and gave me a happy smile as he patted my forehead, "I'll be back, Gabriel, don't you worry. I'm not like Dad."

Please, take your time. Take a century, please, that would be wonderful, just don't kill me or my Hunters, thanks.

There was a flutter of wings as he left, the six powerful limbs snapping him away faster than I could blink, a flying talent that I wasn't sure I would ever master or even achieve. I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes, hoping for sleep to take me away from this painful, current existence, but it was not to be for the dulled eyes of my alternate self were right there in my mind, sewed onto the back of my vessel's eyelids.

My own wings, six of them unlike alternate me's two and anything but transparent, as his/hers were, were dropping themselves, too heavy at the moment to lift up. I tried to pick them up, pull them closer to me, have them do anything but droop like snapped branches and pained at the comparison to my alternate self, but I couldn't find enough energy to even make them twitch.

I sat up when the door opened, not alert enough to have picked up the sound of tires nearing the motel. Sera stared at me for a moment before tackling me in a hug, sobbing tears of relief. I cringed and grunted a bit at being jostled, but did my best at returning the hug, still not quite used to them.

"I thought- when Castiel said he couldn't sense your Grace anymore-" Sera hid her face in my shoulder.

"S'kay," I got out and she gave me a bit of space so that she could see me better.

"You look like shit."

I let out a croak of a laugh at that before pulling myself to my feet and stumbling into the bathroom. She hovered around me like a concerned cat, the concern practically flooding the motel room as I very nearly didn't make it into the bathroom in time before I was dry heaving into the toilet.

"Sera?" a voice of concern rang out and Sera called out our location in response.

"Gabe?"

I hardly glanced at Cassandra, too focused on the way my whole body ached. For the love of Dad, I did not miss the experience of being sick and I definitely was feeling no nostalgia for being sick, especially at this moment of time.

"Oh, Gabe," she cooed in empathy, rubbing circles on my back as I trembled; she didn't even ask what had happened to me, sensing in her own way that I wouldn't have had the strength to respond even if she had asked.

"Is he...?"

I spared a glance at the Winchester, now that this round of puking seemed to be over, but instead of answering I just allowed the Maples to help me back to bed.

"He's not mortal," Castiel said, stepping forward and placing a hand against my forehead, "his Grace has been weakened considerably. His vessel is unused to the viruses and illnesses of the twenty first century and is being attacked by them now that his Grace is too weak to keep them away."

"Dimensions," I groaned.

"That would explain it," Castiel nodded, "God made the archangels a certain way, putting precautions in place to deter them from traveling through dimensions, especially if they got out of control. Gabriel's Grace should be powerful enough to downgrade the effects. The witches burned their spell book, but I can only hope that they were the only ones with such a dangerous spell in heir possession."

I closed my eyes, just wanting to sleep now that I was sure that everybody was safe. I felt an arm press against my forehead and a concerned voice that sounded to be Cassandra spoke, "he's burning up. Sera, go get me a damp washcloth."

"Is he contagious?" there was no fear in Sera's voice at the idea that the illnesses plaguing me may spread.

"No," Castiel said, "you are all immune, as is my vessel. Gabriel's vessel doesn't have the necessary antibodies. Gabriel's vessel is not used to the evolved forms of common bacteria and viruses."

The damp washcloth on my forehead felt -dare I say it?- heavenly.

"Can you help him?"

Castiel did not answer and the silence stretched on for so long that I would have wondered if the angel had left if I could not have still felt his Grace.

"Will eating help?" Sam's voice was accompanied by the scrape of a chair as he pulled it out to sit in it and I cracked my eyes open in time to see the incredulous look Cassandra sent his way; I closed my eyes, trying to resume my attempt at sleep, "what? I've never dealt with a sick Archangel before!"

"Why are you all looking at me?" Castiel's gruff voice sounded confused.

"I don't know, Cas," Dean said sarcastically, "maybe it's because you're an angel with knowledge of Archangels?"

"Archangels have never traveled between dimensions before nor have they ever gotten sick."

"Is there a way to contact God? It's his kid," Dean asked.

"Don't you think I already would have contacted him if there was a way the second I discovered that Gabriel was alive?"

"Stop," I grumbled, forcing myself to sit up, "I don't have enough energy to deal with all the neg crap you guys are throwing around right now. Have any of you seen Apollo? He runs the show for these microscopic bastards, doesn't he?"

"We haven't seen Apollo since you two wandered off drunk."

"Wonderful," I moaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"He should have been back by now?" Sam's face fell at the realization and I could tell a missing pagan was the least of our worries at the moment.

"We can look for him when you're better," Cassandra told me, shoving at my chest, but I was much too excited to share my newfound realization to simply allow myself to be put back to bed like an ill child.

"He'd have been back by now; I can only suspect the worst," I said with a deadpan look, "guys, it's daylight savings time."

"Lay your ass down and go to sleep."


	21. Chapter 21

(I don't own Supernatural; I just got ungrounded. ConsumedByTheShadows, your comment really made my day (and I can relate to binge reading). Thank you. And thanks to all my other readers too.)

Sweating was an unusual feeling but it's exactly what I was doing when I woke up. I groaned and threw back the purple cat sheets, feeling like I'd just stepped out of a volcano. Other than feeling overheated I felt fine, though my feathers currently lacked their usual luster. It was dark, but my eyes had no trouble seeing.

I was good at being silent as long as my huge ass wings don't run into anything, and by some sort of miracle I silently moved across the room without running them into anything. Castiel was gone, which was fortunate since he would have noticed that I was awake.

I didn't bother with shoes, my feet unaware of the snow that crunched beneath them with every step; my breath came out in a wispy fog, curling and dissipating. The cold air felt good on my burning skin.

The door creaked when it opened, but I was out and closing it before any of the Hunters could notice, though I heard a half-awake snort rise from one of the beds.

I waited outside for a moment to make sure nobody was awake before I set off, watching tendrils of my Grace spread out away from me, the ends rolling out of sight, wavy bridges connecting them to me. I had figured that by this point I would recognize the feel of his presence, but I felt nothing and didn't know how to figure out how there was a difference among those I did not recognize the presence of. My Grace skimmed against some that felt a little odd in the same way that Apollo had a certain oddness compared to the Maples.

I didn't stop until a spike of terror pierced my chest with such intensity that I gasped, doubling over in surprise; I clutched at my chest, taking a deep breath. It wasn't the first time I've dealt with the feelings of those nearby and I shoved it to the side, retracting my Grace to me so I could focus completely. I followed it, snow crunching beneath my feet as I dashed to the origin of the fear. I skidded to a stop when I passed an alley, pressing myself against the corner of the wall and glancing into the alley with a single eye, half of my face facing the wall.

The woman was young, a college girl perhaps. She was trembling, from fear or the cold or even both, her attacker pulling at her coat and scarf. The man was larger than her and I could smell the alcohol on his breath from here. The whole thing made my gut churn and my vision tinge red as I remembered when I had been faced with a similar danger.

I reached down, scooping up a snowball, forming it with my hands. I felt nothing but indifference, calm as I sculpted my snowball before throwing it like a softball. It hit the man in the face hard enough to knock him off his feet and into an icy puddle. The woman was sobbing, eyes wide.

"Run," I warned her. She didn't need told twice, taking off without another moment of hesitation.

The man let loose a roll of curses , stumbling to his feet and eyes landing on me, "you're gonna pay for that, midget."

I watched him stumble towards me, a part of me amused at his effort. I cringed at a flash of pain, and he took a swipe at me. I recovered, taking a step backward before I slammed my fist into his jaw, rewarded with a loud crack as his jaw broke and hung in an unnatural way.

He cried out in pain, hands flying to his jaw, but I slammed my hands into his chest, sending him flying into the wall of the alley; he fell, landing in the disgusting slush.

"Wh- wht- you?" he stared at me, fearful now, as he should be, face contorting in pain as he slurred out his words through a broken jaw.

"Not a midget," I wiped my hand against my forehead, confused when it came back with sweat. I rubbed my face with a sleeve before turning my attention back on my prey, "I mean, come on dude, I'm not that short. You're barely two inches taller than me."

He went to scream when I moved towards him, but I grabbed his jaw and squeezed, making him cry out, sobs wracking his body.

There was a voice in my head that sounded an awful lot like my conscience, telling me to punch the life out of this jerk; I wanted to kill him, deliver justice in my own way. My fists were flying before I even realized I was punching him. A normal person's hands would have broken, especially when hitting another human's skull, but you have to love that Archangel resilience.

I didn't stop until I realized I was practically making juice at that point, the guy's body already cold. My chest heaved, heart pounding. I had to blink the dizziness out of my eyes a couple times before I could find it in me to stand up. My hands felt weird and my fingers stick together. The snow was red, trickles of blood flooding over into the storm drains. Several drops of blood rolled from my hands down my arms, leaving red trails behind them. It looked like paint where it was dry. Really red paint.

I choked, stumbling away, staring at my own hands in horror. I quickly struggled to get off as much as I could with nearby snow, scrubbing the skin raw in places where the guy's lifeblood was stubborn. I hurried away from the scene, my clothes splattered with the stuff. My face and neck itched, but I ignored it in favor of scurrying home.

I slunk into the room like a bad dog -ooh, bad analogy, that opens a whole new can of worms that involves the death of a pagan- but it seemed that everybody was still asleep. It was almost too simple how easy it was to slip into clean clothes after washing away all traces of the night's events away in the motel sink. By the time anybody even showed signs of beginning to wake up, I was slipping under the covers of the bed I was being able to use. The Winchesters had been kind enough to take the floor, a tangle of limbs in the dogpile the brothers had managed to arrange on top of the blanket bed. The two giants made the blankets look like throw blankets.

I smiled at the sight and laid my head against the pillow. I didn't feel like I was burning up as much anymore.

* * *

"Thomas MacGeruh, 26, was found beaten to death this morning."

I didn't even spare a glance at the bar's television, staring at my two hands that were wrapped around the shot glass. It was only one shot and it seemed that the... fresh air... I had gotten last night had done me good; I didn't feel sick anymore and the fever had died down after Sera loaded me up with a bag of sugar. I'm not talking about a bag of candy; Sera literally handed me a bag of actual sugar and told me to eat it. The trickster part of me had almost gone through the ceiling.

"You think it has anything to do with the case?"

"Hmm?" I glanced at Sam as he sat down next to me, "does what have anything to do with the case?"

Sam nodded his head towards the tv, "the kid they found pulverized this morning. The Maples went to check it out and Dean and Cas, uh, our Cas not yours, went to examine the body that we know is connected to the case. That leaves me and you with the witnesses and the family and friends of the victims."

I glanced at the older Winchester, who was speaking to my brother, Castiel, as they ducked out of the bar. The Maples seemed to have already left.

I glanced at the tv, watching as the reporter informed the station's watchers on the situation. It seemed the girl I had saved hadn't spoken up yet, if she ever would. I tuned it out, glancing back at my hands. I felt horrible.

"You still feeling sick?" Sam whispered, leaning in closer so as to lower the chances of being heard, "you've been quiet lately, even for the new you. Is there any other effects from dimension travel that you've been having?"

New me... right. Amnesia thing, memories. I downed the shot glass before I spoke, "yeah, I'm fine, let's go."

I didn't feel a shred of guilt about killing that guy.

And that's the part that worried me.

* * *

"Good morning," I introduced as the door opened, "I'm Agent Lokes and this is Agent Balder-"

"Sam?"

Sam gave the girl a once over and stiffened considerably. I felt a wave of annoyance and awkwardness rise from the moose man, "Becky?"

She squealed a little, hopping a bit, before grabbing the Winchester's arm and pulling him, "come in, come in!"

I stood there awkwardly, confused, but her iron grip found its way onto my arm and she tugged me into the house as well, closing the door behind us. I shared a look of trepidation with Sam, but it was too late. The excited woman waved us into the living room, locking the front door which did not go unnoticed by me.

"You must be here about the recent murders!" she said; her bookcase caught my eye and I went over to examine the many books on it, all of them proudly portraying the words 'Supernatural' in big letters, "I've been keeping track of it, but I didn't expect you of all people to be checking it out! Is it something major!? Is Amara back!?"

I stiffened at the word, dropping the book I had pulled out from the shelf before I could even glance over the first page, "A-Ama- A-Am- Amara?"

She cast me a weird look, "who are you?"

"We're working the case with another pair of Hunters at the moment, he's one of them," Sam said, thinking quickly, "uh-"

"Jarvis," I said quickly, falling back on a name from what felt like another life. It seemed like it had been centuries since I was living in a box, though it's been little more than almost two years since I woke up in that alley. The first year sucked but this year has been much better... I guess, if you overlook all the near death experiences and all the supernatural crap.

"How do you know about Amara?" Sam frowned. I felt afraid just hearing her name mentioned.

"Chuck's newest books; I just finished them all!"

I grabbed the newest looking book that looked like it was the last and tossed it to Sam, who flipped to the end of it. Annoyance crossed his face and he tossed it back to me after checking out the last few pages, "right up to me getting shot."

"British Men of Letters," my mind supplied, but Sam didn't seem to have heard me say it. I slipped the book back into its spot and picked up the one I had dropped, the first one it seemed. I grinned and showed him the cover, before slipping the book back in place, "nice Fabio you got going, Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy," he said immediately.

"Got it, Sam-I-Am."

"Ga- Jarvis, I'm not kidding," Sam shot me a warning look, but I just grinned and grabbed a random book, flipping it to a random page, "Becky, it was nice seeing you but we should be going."

"No, no, no! I've got information you can use!"

I glanced up from the page before turning my attention back to the book, only half listening as this Becky person raddled off a list of names who she suspected could be suspects. Though he looked doubtful, Sam wrote them down all the same, as well as the information. It seemed like a lot of nonsense to me; why would a monster want to suck out somebody's fat? That sounded disgusting. I tried some fat that was on a piece of meat once and it had not been a fun experience. To eat nothing but fat? Ew. Give me a tootsie roll any day. Speaking of which...

"Sounds like a pishtaco," Sam said, gears churning in his head.

"A fish taco?" I asked, pulling the wrapper off of a dum-dum I've been saving; I barely noticed as I let the wrapper fall from my hand, a bad habit that I barely noticed.

"Pishtaco," Sam corrected, swooping down and grabbing the wrapper, crumpling it up and shoving it into his pocket, "Dean and I have faced one before. They're from Peru; look human until they get their sucker out. You have to cut that sucker off with silver."

"Hah," I grinned, amused by the childish humor that arose in me, "what a sucker. Heh? Get it?"

"I get it," Sam rolled his eyes.

"A fish taco..." Becky hummed, eyes squinting in thought.

"Pishtaco," Sam corrected.

"Yeah," she nodded.

I turned my attention back to the book, scanning the page. My eyes caught on a familiar name on the page I had opened it to and then it caught on my own. My entire death scene, caught in explicit detail; I felt a lamp grow in my throat and quickly closed the book, putting it back in its place on the shelf.

"I've been keeping track of things, too," she said, quickly grabbing up a messy stack of worn notebooks and handing me one of them, "that one, I think. Or maybe-"

I flipped it open; obviously not having learned my lesson from the Supernatural book, my eyes caught on my own name and focused on it. My face went red as my gaze skimmed over her handwriting and I found myself in a terrible predicament over whether to continue in stunned horror or whether to drop the notebook in mortified horror and go become a nun in the hopes of cleansing myself after reading this. Can guys become nuns?

"Oh! Nope," she quickly made the choice for me, grabbing the notebook and shoving a different one that looked the same on the outside into my hands, "here, this one. Phew, I should really write something on the front to tell them apart."

I tried to say something but it came out as a strangled sound that quickly died in my throat. But the mistake had already been made and she was watching me with worried eyes, waiting for judgement on her story from the outside audience. My face felt like it would melt off my face with the amount of heat that was burning it; no doubt it had gone a color redder than anybody's face has ever been, "uh, um, that was, uh, that was an, um, interesting story. I, uh, never thought of using my- of anybody being able to use wings in such a way for, uh, such a thing."

"Really?"

"Uh, y-yes, uh, wh- what exactly?"

"Oh," she smiled at me, obviously pleased and mistaking my horror and traumatic experience as awe for her fanfic, "well, since Sam and I never worked out-"

"Thank God," I heard Sam mutter quietly.

"-I've gotten into ships!"

"Sh-Ships?"

"Yes, exactly," Becky nodded, "Sabriel is my OTP."

"OTP?"

"One true pairing?"

"Pairing? Is- is Sabriel a person?" I stared at her, trying to shake the mental image in my head.

"No, silly," she laughed as if what I had just said was quite amusing, "Sabriel is the ship name! You know..." -she leaned in close to whisper- "Sabriel as in Sam slash Gabriel?"

"What is slash?" I blinked, only having gotten more confused.

Sam nearly choked, whipping his head up from his notes on the information Becky had given him, "why are you talking about slash?"

"He doesn't know what slash is," Becky said, "anyways, it's slash as in," -she linked her fingers together- "Sam and Gabriel, together. Slash."

"Like friends?"

"Little bit more than friends."

"Best friends?"

"Little bit more."

If anything my face grew even redder. I linked my fingers together, copying her, "like, together-together?"

"Together-together."

"I don't understand," I gaped and Sam seemed just as horrified if the disgust radiating off of him was any indication. That kind of hurt, I'm not that bad, but at the same time, I wasn't too keen on the idea either, "but I- but Gabriel- but..."

"You know how in the Mystery Spot how Sam woke up every morning to Heat of the Moment?" her eyes were shining and I could feel the feels emenating off of her, so strong I almost found myself caught up in it, "well if you listen to the lyrics...!"

She made a strange squealing sound.

"Gabriel was so being so romantic! You can just tell! He basically started off the day apologizing to Sam for killing Dean everyday! And if you listen to the song!"

Sam glanced at me with the biggest what-the-Hell look that I have ever seen. I cannot speak for the old me so I simply gave him a helpless what-the-hell-is-going-on look. I couldn't stare at him for long with the story's mental image still stuck in my head though and my blush seemed to just be getting worse.

"I'm, uh, gonna go check out the other room just in case," Sam said awkwardly, making a break for it and leaving me alone with the girl who I was quite concerned may be in pain or going through a heatstroke with all the fanning herself and hopping around she was doing, muttering about the song lyrics.

"I am certain that the Winchesters hate the Archangel," I said, tilting my head, "after what he did, he would most certainly deserve it."

Anger rolled off her in waves, "Gabriel got killed saving them!"

"Still doesn't make up for it."

"No, don't you see!? That was his redemption arc! And now that it's been revealed that Chuck is God, then Gabriel will definetly be coming back; Chuck has to bring him back!"

"Wait, what?" that one sentence alone had shaken the mental image away in an instant, freeing me from the trauma of it, "what did you say?"

"Chuck has to bring him back?"

"Did... did you say... Chuck... Chuck is God?"

"Yeah, he writes the books," she beamed, "can you believe that!? I mean- whoa, are you okay?"

I didn't even glance up from where I had collapsed against the wall. If Chuck writes the books and Chuck is God... my eyes darted back to the book I'd moved back into the shelf. My vessel's heart pounded in my ears, my blood had turned to ice.

"Oh my Chuck, do you have like PTSD or something? There's a lot of fan theories that most Hunters all have at least a little bit of PTSD. Was it something I said that triggered it or- oh, is it just really surprising that God wrote those? I mean, I was really surprised-"

"I'm good, I'm good," I said, my own voice sounding like it was miles away.

My own Father had simply watched while Lucifer killed me, wrote every detail down in his little book and shared the entire experience with the world, probably laughing while he did it. Showed how much he cared. Make sure to write down every last detail. He was probably pretty happy with himself, watching his children tear each other apart, not even trying to help and then he ditched us again to run off with his Amara, even after what she had done.

Blood pooled in my mouth as I bit down on my tongue, struggling to hold back tears. I didn't want to cry like a weak little pansy, I wanted to be angry! I wanted to be furious!

"Are you crying?" Becky gaped at me, obviously confused.

"No," I sniffed, rubbing at my eyes, "I am simply very moved by your description of this Sabriel ship."

Her eyes lit up, "I can tell you more about it!"

"I'd be glad to hear it," I lied, struggling to compose myself, "I mean, the chemistry, wow, I can't believe I didn't see it before now. Can you... can you tell me more about Gabriel actually? I don't really know much about the books, being a Hunter kind of saps the wallet if you know what I mean so I can't really afford to buy them."

"I can lend you some of mine!" she said happily, running to her bookshelf, "as long as you're in town, I mean, as long as you can get them back. Do you want to start from the beginning? Or do you want to read the Gabriel ones?"

"I don't think it would feel right if I invaded Sam and Dean's privacy," I said, wiping my face dry and trying not to hyperventilate, "so just the Gabriel ones?"

"Sure!" Becky said, pulling out several books with speed that should have been impossible, "these ones have Gabriel in it, even the ones before they knew he was Gabriel and they just thought he was a Trickster. There's... he wasn't in many, but he's got a big following in the fan base."

"Thank you, Becky," I gave her my most charming smile, hoping she'd forget about my breakdown. It seemed to work, though my smiles aren't as bright as Apollo's or as easily faked as a Winchester's. Her face went red and her hand lingered for a minute as she handed them over, the breakdown swept away by her hopeless romantic of a mind, just as I knew it would. I carefully put the books in my bag and waited for Sam to return, only pretending to listen as Becky talked about her Sabriel fascination. My mind was too focused on my discovery.

I knew exactly what I would do when my brother came back and there was nothing that could change my mind now.


	22. Chapter 22

(I will consult my method of decision making for a pairing -as in I take a couple pieces of paper with stuff written on them depending on the decision, close my eyes and throw them in the air then stumble around my room with my eyes shut until I find one. No, I haven't used said method for this book yet.- anyways, don't own Supernatural)

I really wanted to smash something. Watching the streetlights explode every time we passed one was not enough.

"You sure you don't want to sit up front?" Sam glanced back at me, fortunately having not noticed the streetlights exploding, or maybe he was simply ignoring it. I didn't answer, the question not registering in my head as I read through the books. Sam turned his eyes back on the road, not getting angry at me for ignoring him.

I didn't put the book down until I realized I was just reading the same sentence over and over, mind focused on other things. I sighed in frustration and dropped it on the seat next to me, staring out the window, allowing my Grace to drift out of boredom. It swirled away from me, bouncing around the car and signaling back old news. Nothing special. I was certain that I would recognize the Winchesters in a crowd by this point, familiar with their aura or whatever the Hell it is my Grace senses.

"You okay? You're quiet."

I merely grunted. If I opened my mouth to talk who knows what will come out; little pity mes shoved through sobbing breaths? Angry tone while I break down and have feeling sharing time? No thanks.

Sam seemed to accept my silence fortunately, focusing his eyes on the road.

Muffling another sigh, I picked the book up and resumed reading.

* * *

I was halfway through it by the time we returned to the motel and I didn't look up from it until I ran into something feathery, which proved to be Castiel's wings. He gave me an odd look, eyes focusing on the book in my hands before he simply looked away to Dean, who was talking over a phone. I was confused over why they were back so quickly but decided it best not to speak while the Winchester most likely to shoot me was speaking over the phone, so I sat down next to Cas and returned to my book.

"The Winchesters do not like those books very much," Cas said to me quietly.

"Mhm," I hummed, still not trusting my voice quite yet.

Cas glanced at my wings, the feathers on each of them kind of fluffed up, "what happened?"

I shrugged, kicking my feet up on the table and ignoring his confused expression as I reopened my book and resumed reading.

At least I was reading it until Dean grabbed it from me, "what is this?"

"We ran into Becky," Sam said, shifting awkwardly.

"She told me about slash," I said finally, grabbing the book back, "now shush, I have to read about myself. Do I kill the janitor? I don't kill the janitor, do I?"

"You are the janitor."

I cast a glare his way, "spoiler alert."

"Gabriel is a bit touchy for some reason right now," Sam said, casting a glance my way.

"Nooooo, I'm perfectly happy," my face fell into a frown and the bottle Dean was about to pick up shattered into pieces, "sorry."

Dean simply glared, cursing under his breath as he went to get a towel to clean it up.

I turned my attention back to my book, not trusting myself to say anything else now as my mind returned to the reason why I was angry. Except I couldn't seem to find the anger I had had, only a dark lump in my throat now; I took a deep breath, my wings pulling in closer and wrapping around me a bit subconsciously. Darn Castiel can see my wings though and tilted his head slightly, face scrunched up in concern.

"What kind of slash?" Dean asked as he set to work cleaning up the alcohol.

"Apparently there's a new ship since the first time we learned about the books," Sam said, sitting down in the seat across from Cas and I and opening up his laptop, "Becky was more than happy to tell us aaaaalllllllll about it. It's called Sabriel."

"Sabriel?"

"As in... Sam and Gabriel."

Dean just stared at his brother for a minute before speaking, "and people are shipping that?"

"Apparently, and even though Gabriel hasn't shown up much in the series but he still has a large fan following."

"Becky was writing Sabriel fan fiction," I happily accepted the opportunity to change my mind train from its my-dad-happily-watched-me-die tracks and onto the help-I'm-traumatized tracks, "if I could pull my eyes out and wash them off I would."

"Is that why you went all pale?"

"Trust me when I say you do not want to read what she was writing," I shook my head, "my little virgin mind has been traumatized."

"Virgin? You've been around since who the Hell knows how long," Dean threw the rag he'd cleaned the alcohol up with and it landed on Sam's head, who glared at him and whipped it back at his older brother, "besides, you didn't seem much like a virgin if you giving your own eulogy in a porno was any indication."

"I what?" the color leaked from my face.

"Dean," Sam warned his brother, "you know he doesn't remember any of that."

"You've been a virgin since Amara brought you back," my own brother spoke up helpfully.

"There you go," Dean said, waving his hand before throwing the rag back at Sam, "problem solved."

"Can we drop this topic? It's making me uncomfortable," I said.

I got a couple weird looks for that statement but they let it drop, luckily enough, smoothly changing the topic towards the case. I turned my attention to my book, humming 'If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away' under my breath as I read. I could hit all the right notes without having to take a breath from humming since I don't really need air.

I didn't zone back in until Dean slammed a flip phone shut, "Cassandra and Sera are on their way back, they can't find any relation between victims so they're chalking it off to human."

I finished reading and moved to the next one.

"You're done reading that already?" Sam glanced over his laptop screen at me as I put the book down on the table and pulled out the next one.

"Gabriel was The Messenger," Castiel answered him, "being a fast reader is simply a small part of that. He was also the fastest flyer."

"Fastest crasher in my case," I grumbled, opening the book, titled Changing Channels under the large 'Supernatural' on the front of it.

"You taught me how to fly," Cas said proudly, stretching his two wings out before pulling them back in.

"I can't exactly fly, Cassie," I murmured, flipping the page.

Silence.

"What?" I glanced up.

"It's just... you used to call me that all the time," Cas said, glancing away for a moment before meeting my gaze, a tinge of sadness swirling in those blue orbs, "when you would call me Castiel I would know you were being serious, like when you told me not to step on that fish."

"Fish?" I tilted my own head, not noticing that I was doing it.

"Sometimes... sometimes you act like the Gabriel I know but then you do something that makes me remember you're not the same, the one I used to know," he glanced down at his hands, "I mean, when I first saw you here on Earth, so long after you left us behind, I saw that you were different, but now..."

I stared at him for a second before I sighed and closed the book after glancing at the page number, "Castiel... I tried to take you with me when I left."

"What?" his gaze snapped up to meet mine.

"It was one of the first memories that Apollo was able to return to me," I admitted, "I've only regained not even close to 1% of my memories, but I'm pretty sure the one thing I regretted most was that I failed in that. I..." -I ran my hand through my hair, struggling to think of what to say to get my point across since I was already saying more than I probably should have- "and... I'm... I'm sorry."

"I'm, uh, gonna leave you two to your chick flick moment," Dean turned and walked over to the beds, flopping down onto one of them and flipping on the television.

Castiel didn't seem to be able to comprehend this completely; I couldn't feel his emotions as clearly as I could feel a mortal's, but his shock was so large that I could feel faint traces of it from him. Of all the things I could have said, that was obviously one of the last things he thought I would say. Here it comes; this is where he gets angry, throws something, maybe he makes stuff explode too.

This is where he hates me.

But Cas failed to say anything at all; we were plunged into an uncomfortable awkward silence, Sam glancing between the two of us from his computer while trying to appear like he wasn't listening in.

"I'm going for a walk," I said finally, standing up and moving to leave.

"Gabriel.." Cas looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't seem to be able to get the words out.

"It's okay," I said honestly, "I mean, I would hate me too, but I don't really know me all that well, like at all."

His wings shifted anxiously on his back, his face looking extra constipated today before he spoke, his gruff voice ending his silence, "Gabriel... I don't hate you."

I paused, my hand just about to turn the door knob. No, that's not how this works, Cas; I told you the truth and you're supposed to hate me for it. I hate me for it.

"I.. I forgive you."

I couldn't help but pick my drooping wings up at that, glancing back at him in disbelief, "you... forgive me?"

He nodded.

"I left you to.. I left you to Michael and you just forgive me for doing that to you?" my wings quivered, the memory I had gotten involving the argument with my brother over the angels rising up in my mind.

"You.. remember?" his wings perked up with hope, which made my own wings droop again.

"...The second memory that I got was of an argument with Michael. It was after that argument that I tried to leave. I wanted to take all of you, but I figured that if I could even take one of you with me..." I glanced away, feeling horrible.

"You argued a lot with Michael in the days before you left," Cas nodded, eyebrows scrunched as he worked this new information over in his mind, "Gabriel...what did you two argue about during that last argument?"

Sam finally moved, smartly deciding that this personal conversation did not involve him; he took a seat next to his brother to watch tv, arguing with his brother when Dean stopped his channel flipping on Dr. Sexy and skipped right over Law & Order.

Cas was staring at me expectantly, wanting for an answer, and so finally I took my hand off the door knob and turned around, back to the door, "Cassie... Castiel. I...that argument was the majority of the reason why I left."

"Why?"

I ran my hand down the face and glanced skyward; what I was about to say out loud would probably make me sound like an over dramatic brat. He hit me one time and I ran? "We were arguing about you, you and all the other angels."

"Us?" his shock grew just a little, but his face noticeably fell a bit. Shoot, no, no, no, don't start blaming yourself.

"I was... strongly against him turning you into soldiers," I admitted, "I... I should have kept my mouth shut, maybe I could have done more for you guys if I had stayed, maybe I could have at least helped you out a little. But..."

Cas stared at me and the silence between us convinced me to continue.

"When Michael hit me-"

"He hit you?" my brother's eyes went wide.

"I knew then that in his eyes I had become nothing more than a member of his so called troops," there was the dark feeling swelling up within me again, a knotted mess of rage and grief and pain, "a pawn in his fight against Lucifer. He told me to get out of sight, and so that's exactly what I did."

It seemed this information had flipped the poor little guy (yes, I'm short and he's not as short, but still, he was my baby brother and he was always going to be a little guy to me) right on his head; Castiel opened his mouth to speak before closing his mouth when he could find no words to fill the silence. The arguing had stopped in the other room, the only sound being the over dramatic characters in the tv show the brothers had decided on. The brothers quickly looked away from the two of us when they saw that I'd noticed their staring.

"I know," I sighed, turning around, "I mean, I have a memory from afterwards, long before I became a pagan, where I tore myself up about it. It was... stupid, to just leave over one little argument gone nasty, but I just couldn't bear to watch Michael turn our home into a military camp."

I'd opened the door and slipped out before Castiel could understand that I was leaving this conversation.

"Gabrie-!"

But I'd already shut the door, breaking down on the other side, running away from my problems like I've always done.

* * *

By the time I got back to the motel, it was empty. My phone was filled with over a hundred messages from my Hunters, the Maples, and even a voicemail from Cassie. I dropped down onto one of the beds and finally opened my phone, skimming quickly through the messages. The first couple were worried, the next couple concerned, then a combination of the two before melting into questions of my locations. The last one said that they'd gone out for supplies, with the address of the store having been given it's very own line and a request for me to meet up with them if I felt like it.

I dropped the phone onto the bed, trying not to notice the new voicemail symbol flashing at me from the screen. If Castiel hadn't hated me for leaving him, he definitely hated me now for just running away in the middle of a conversation and for leaving them to Michael.

I sat up, staring into the black screen of an odd television. I quickly grew bored, stretching my Grace out just in case Apollo was nearby and I could go get him. I froze when my Grace skidded against a familiar small bit of Grace. I stood up, going over to the Winchester's bag, drawn to it by this little dose of Grace. My Grace.

They'd probably kill me for it, but I opened the duffel and started digging through it. At the bottom was the thing guilty for this mystery and I easily pulled it out, zipping the bag up quickly in case the Winchesters walked in and saw me going through their stuff.

I didn't recognize the title of the case but I opened it up, running my fingers over the Grace filled item. It seemed to call to me. _WATCH ME, DAMMIT!_

I pulled the Casa Erotica disc out and grabbed Cassandra's laptop, which had been left on the bed she was sharing with Sera. It took a couple minutes for me to find the disc slot, but then it was simply a matter of time before I was able to get the cd going. There were five separate parts but I clicked on the first one.

Odd music played, soon joined by a strange woman with a strange voice talking about being bored. I was just about to roll my eyes at how stupid this crappy movie seemed to be when I saw a familiar face on the man opening the door.

Of course, I don't have a fake moustache, but it seemed like a fun idea, the moustache I mean. He said something about having the food she ordered, but I didn't recognize the name of the food that he said until it registered in my mind as a meat food made from how-the-Hell-should-I-know but he simply tossed the tray aside, a complete waste of food. The girl didn't get angry though.

But then, with a snap of his fingers, everything around him in the video froze.

"If you're watching this, then I am dead... oh, stop your sobbing, it's embarrassing for all of us!"

I simply stared at the me on screen.

"Of course, if you're watching this one, then you'll know that I'm not quite so dead."

"What?" I couldn't help but say aloud, but it seemed that this was just a recording and he didn't respond to my question.

"You see, there's more than one disc in this disc, you could say. This one only comes up in response to a certain thing... my Grace. Which means, if you-me, uh, whatever, I'm going to call you, who is me, I'm gonna call you you, cause you're future me or whatever- anyways, point is, if you're watching this then Apollo was right."

But at the time he- uh, I- made this, then wasn't Apollo long since dead?

"Apollo is dead at the moment, killed about ninety something years ago, to be honest I kind of lost track of time. If he's finally gotten out by the time what he foretold comes into play, which is you, and I'm guessing he has, since what he saw was me, er, you, walking past his house with no memories of who you are than he has and he was right, which really sucks because memories are kind of somewhat what makes somebody who they are. Anyways, you can trust Apollo-"

I snorted at the irony of that.

"-but if you're watching this then either the Winchesters have failed in protecting this and the world has ended in failure, which I really hope isn't the case because that means I died for nothing, or you've stolen this from them since I was very exact when making this and you wouldn't be able to help yourself, which is good, but it also means the Winchesters will be pretty ticked off so avoid them. Or, best case scenario for me, you're with the Winchesters, so you're safe... I think, they might still hate you-me."

The me on screen glanced away for a moment before looking back. Watching me, him, the way I moved and talked, I could kind of see what Cas had been talking about about mannerisms.

"If I- you- don't have any memories..." he pulled a piece of candy from his pocket, not even noticing as the wrapper drifted from his hand to the floor; a bad habit that he couldn't seem to shake no doubt, one that I have myself, which made sense since I am him.

The me on screen sat down on the edge of the bed, face serious, "I can't fit everything into one segment, so there's five on here that you need to watch. I don't have much time for this and this is the last one I'm doing, each disc triggered by something different. Now, you may be a little rusty..."

He cracked a grin then, the me on screen, and I recognized the gleam in his eyes that were often in my own, "so listen closely."


	23. Chapter 23

(I don't own Supernatural. There is a song later on in this chapter (don't worry, this did not magically become a musical story, there's not even any lyrics) that is heavily based on the one that played in the movie of The Giver, one of my favorite movies that makes me tear up every time. Phew, this chapter was 4,714 words! That has got to be the longest chapter for this story yet.)

I had been just about to start the second segment when the motel door opened. The screen immediately shifted, replacing them with different, fewer segments with suspicious names; I quickly returned the disc to its case and stuffed the case into my duffel bag, which was next to the bed. I even managed it before Sera had put down a couple plastic bags on the floor and noticed me.

"Hey, Gabe," she said, casting me a grin that I shakily returned, my mind still reeling from the information I had gotten from the first segment, "sorry we were gone so long; we brought food."

"Thanks," I said, closing her laptop, flapping my wings as much as I could and nearly knocking a picture frame off the wall. They were getting cramped and I wanted to stretch them out.

True to Sera's words, Dean walked in with his arms full of fast food take out, tossing a bag to me once he'd dropped the rest on the table, grabbing one up for himself. I examined my prize, pulling out several burgers.

"Gabriel," Castiel nodded, looking a bit out of place with all the drinks he was holding.

"Cassie," I nodded, beckoning him over, "come here."

He left the drinks on the counter and did as asked, sitting down on the end of the bed that I was sitting criss cross applesauce on, staring at me in a way that clearly said he expected to continue the conversation we'd begun a while ago. Instead, I pulled out a golden spice container and sprinkled it all over the burgers before handing him one of the burgers, "eat."

"But I will only taste molecules."

"Eat," I demanded.

With a slight huff he took the burger from me, taking a small bite with a bored expression on his face. When he was met with flavor, his eyes widened almost as much as my grin, "this does not taste like molecules."

"Nope," I winked, shaking the golden spice container before handing it to him, "here, for all the birthdays I missed."

"Angels do not have-"

"Happy early slash late birthday."

He was devouring the burger so he couldn't really respond. When he could, he merely asked, "what is this?"

"Ambrosia spice," I answered, "sprinkle it on the food and bam! Flavor city."

The wonderful sensation of taste seemed to have rid my brother of any thoughts concerning our earlier conversation, which was fortunate since I didn't want to talk about it and I've spilled guts enough today. For now, I was more than happy to simply share my ambrosia spice.

Even better, it kept my mind off of what I had sensed during my time away from the motel and what I knew I needed to do.

Instead of focusing on it, I focused on the time I was spending with my Hunters and my brother.

* * *

"Good morning, sir, may I help you?" the lady asked helpfully while I looked through the woman's section. Unfortunately all my fake memories have faded so completely I can barely even remember what a female form is like, which sucked since I needed one for where I was going. To be honest I wasn't looking forward to it, but I knew having one would be a lot easier. Pagans love female virgins.

Gross, but necessary for this undercover mission. As soon as it was over, I could return to my vessel's normal form where I didn't need to wear such horrendous things. I was completely fine with the fact that archangels don't have a gender, don't get me wrong, but I overall preferred my male vessel's actual male form.

I couldn't help the flush that overcame my face, though, even though there was no reason why I should be embarrassed, "sorry, I'm not used to this kind of shopping. It's.. well my girlfriend's birthday is coming up and I remember she said she needed new..." I motioned to the aisle I was in, "but I... I'm good at getting jewelry but I don't know the first thing about makeup or these painful looking devices."

She smiled warmly, "we have some with cute designs and such, perfect for date nights."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the next aisle, where my face flushed even more at the... skimpier... selections. Hell to the no. If I had to wear something like that, then if Apollo really is trapped by other pagans like I had picked up after today's flight, then Apollo can rot because fuck memories I am not wearing anything like these, "um, I don't understand why they need to be so... like that... don't people usually wear shirts overtop the.. um.."

"Bras?"

"Uh.. yeah."

"Well, yeah, but I figured.. never mind. What size is she?" she asked, leading me back to the original aisle.

"Size? There's sizes?"

A flash of annoyance washed over her face before being replaced by her retail smile.

Fuck this, I should just grab a bikini and call it a day, "uh, how about this one," I grabbed the nearest one, a set of both the bra and the underwear.

"Well, is she wearing dark shirts?"

"I... I'm not good at this," I admitted, putting them back, confused as hell, "sorry."

"How about this white set, she can wear it with anything, especially with these adjustable straps that she can take off or put on," the retail worker said, grabbing said white set and handing them to me. Sure, whatever, I just want to leave, "do these seem like they'll fit?"

"Yes, thank you," I said with a quick nod. The sooner I can leave this aisle the better because the idea of what I'm going to have to do is only being enhanced here.

"Do you need help finding makeup for her?"

"Um... okay."

* * *

One awkward shopping and wallet emptying (why is everything so expensive!?) trip and google research later I was back at the motel and staring into the mirror at an unfamiliar face. I'd managed to snap up the face well enough, though it had taken me a couple tries to get a hold on the shapeshifting; the explanations from the first segment past me had left behind had helped well enough for me to have an idea of what to do to do it, though I still couldn't manage clothes. My only obstacle was in getting out of the bathroom then out of the motel without any of the mortals waking up and without Castiel popping up out of the blue while he's looking for Crowley so they can return to finding my big bro, Luci.

I had studied the math formulas for the perfect female face, having tested the formulas beforehand on the sleeping Winchesters. Did you know that Dean's face is scientifically almost exactly perfect? I did not model my face on his, though. My now longer, now black hair rolled down my back like a river; I was unable to change my eye color and my wings had followed me to this form, but pagans can't see my wings anyway. My skin was a deep tan, as if I spent long hours outside in the sun everyday, and I'd tucked a crow feather into my hair in just the right way to give more oomph to my lie in case my presence was questioned.

Personally I think I look good enough to give Aphrodite a run for her money. I mean, I haven't seen her before, but I'm pretty sure.

I'd gone for the most appealing form I could make, but it didn't mean I personally liked being in this form; I figured that my fake memories would have ensured that it would be even more comfortable than my actual vessel's form, but I had been wrong.

Maybe it was the bra, or maybe the tight dress (it is a party after all that I am going to, an Olympian party, not going to get drunk with Dionysus this time) but I really wanted to just let Apollo get himself out of the mess he was in. Sadly I need him for my new plans, so off I must go to an Olympian party and I had a feeling I would be much more underestimated in a female form than a male one, especially when they knew my usual face as Loki in my male form.

I pulled up on the dress part that covered my boobs one more time (I had tried to find the highest dress I could, but it still seemed too low for me. I was slightly worried that if I bent over I would end up accidentally flashing everybody) and cursed Apollo under my breath as I checked to make sure everything was on point. Satisfied, I let the dress fall to cover my bare feet (there is nothing in this world that will get me in heels) and slipped out of the bathroom after turning off the light.

Nothing but light snores met my ears and so I carefully moved to the motel door, freezing when I opened it and heard a grumble. I quickly moved out, shutting the door, holding my breath for a couple minutes but heard nothing move inside the room. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I took to the air off of a bench, riding the night's currents and spreading out my Grace again.

They hadn't moved. Perfect.

I landed (crashed) about a mile away and walked the rest of the way after checking myself for any crash damage in the bathroom of a gas station. From the outside the doorway to Olympus looked like the doorway to a small apartment; mortals go in and find an empty room, but with the bouncer's permission pagans and any invites they bring can go through to find themself transported to an Olympus.

For now at least.

The bouncer looked me up and down when he saw me coming down the hall, doing it one more time when I stopped in front of him. His eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary but I fought down my urge to kill him for such pervertedness and gave instead my best smile.

"Well, hello, sweetheart," he grinned finally, skimming the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip and leaning against the closed door's frame, "can I help you?"

"I heard there was a party?" I asked sweetly, "all my fellow gods and goddesses have been talking about it."

"I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting before," he said smoothly, "you may know me better as Zephyros, Greek god of the West Wind."

"It is very nice to meet you, Zephyros," I purred, putting emphasis on very and miming checking him out. It seemed my acting skills were passable, for his eyes lit up. Hit him right where his pagan heart lies, "if I had time, I would love to... hang around for a bit."

"I see you are a busy lady," he purred back, completely forgetting that he hadn't gotten my name or who I was, "I have given you my name, darling, but you have yet to give me yours."

Or maybe he wasn't as distractable as I had thought.

"My friends call me Crow," I introduced myself smoothly, going with the backstory I had prepared for myself, "a spirit from a long lost Native American tribe; unfortunately the religion I am from is long lost dead. Your believers would think me a goddess."

"Got that right, hot damn," he mumbled under his breath and looked me up and down again, accepting my lie as truth and turning himself towards the door, "word of caution, sweetheart, watch yourself; Poseidon is in charge of the Greeks now. Can't say he's as bad as Zeus though, but he's a little trigger happy with the power title."

"You're so amazing," I flattered the pagan as I trailed past. If I was caught, a love struck pagan would do wonders for helping me gain that one second of hesitation that can turn the odds in my favor.

"If you have time later, walk my way, sweetheart," he flashed me a grin, but it wasn't as bright as I remember Apollo's grin to be.

I stepped through the doorway, nearly stumbling over my bare feet as I stepped into the most marvelous place I have ever seen (though perhaps Heaven would have looked even more amazing back before Michael turned it into a military camp).

Huge marble homes, each one looking like a palace, rose high into the air. Stars shimmered in the dark sky above and flickering lanterns of a kind of fire I've never seen before were strung between the buildings and along them, providing light for all the pagans roaming around. There seemed to be a never ending amount of them as far as I could see and the introvert in me was something I had to fight against turning right around and leaving. My wings pressed against my back as tightly as I could pull them in as I scanned the surroundings. Many of the pagans were dancing and twirling and spinning and I found myself mesmerized by it. There were stands set up selling things; things I recognized, things I've never seen before, so many things!

It seemed they were all tuned to different tunes; some were dancing as if listening to jazz, others rock, I even saw somebody break dancing and a couple couples were going along the step-step-step dance couples do during slow dances.

I, myself, was hearing 'Light Em' Up', but it seemed nobody else was on the same tune. It seemed as if only those who were dancing with others were on the same tune.

I wandered forward, gaping in wonder at the decorations and the streets of celestial gold. It seemed even the walls of the buildings had it lining their corners and some had the tops of their buildings built in celestial gold.

It wasn't until I wandered farther into the crowd, sticking to the walls, that I spotted the nine pagans on a stage, happily playing away for all to hear. The cheering was quite loud the closer to the stage, so I wandered off down a side road. Even here, pagans of all types were present. I wouldn't be surprised if they were all here, from every religion. I wouldn't be surprised if the streets of Olympus was filled with millions of pagans.

"Ssssee that guy over there? Dua, hisss name isss, " I caught a hint of a conversation between two pagans standing near a building sipping nectar, the speaker who had pointed Dua out had the head of a snake and twin daggers in his belt, "Egyptian like me; he'sss the god of toiletsss."

"Sanitation!" said pagan yelled angrily, overhearing them, "quit telling everybody I'm the god of toilets, Heptet!"

"But you are!"

I hid a grin and moved on, weaving through the crowd.

"You lost?"

It too me a second for me to realize the voice among millions was speaking to me. My heart skipped a beat in fear for a minute before realizing I wasn't in any trouble; pagans talk to each other all the time, wasn't like the guy speaking to me right now was going to grab onto me and yell that I was an Archangel in disguise. The music shifted to Renegades as Light Em Up ended.

"I am Drapétis," he smiled at me, holding out his hand, "I'm a Forgotten."

"A Forgotten?"

"One of the ones who's following died with their followers," he said, "it happens to a lot of beings, maybe even to everyone here one day. You new here?"

"Um, I'm Crow," I said as he grabbed my hand and led me into a side alley where we weren't being jostled by the crowd.

"Ah, seems we are both lying then?"

"Excuse me?" I froze, hoping I hadn't heard him right.

"What? I asked if you are new?"

"Oh," I nodded, yeah that made more sense, "I guess I'm a Forgotten too."

"Ah, then we can find woe is me in each other," he smirked before doing a half bow and holding out his hand to me, emerald eyes gleaming in the dim light while his crew cut of ebony hair melted in with the darkness. There weren't as many lights strung up in the alley, since the party was on the streets, which were wider, "I must compliment you on your appearance tonight, mi'lady, and I must ask if we could share a dance."

"I really shouldn't," I shook my head, taking a step backwards, wondering if I would melt into the crowd outside the alley entrance, "I don't dance and I have someone I need to find."

"I will not keep you long from what the future holds," he promised, "though I must beg that you let me keep you from it for just a while?"

Ugh, did pagans understand that puppy eyes are a dangerous weapon that shouldn't be used? "One dance, and only one."

"Ah," he beamed in victory, white teeth flashing in the darkness, "come, mi'lady, let us mix the music that beats in our hearts! The Muses play to each individual ear the song that being needs to hear, and when you combine two ears~"

When he grabbed my hand, Renegades melted into a song I haven't heard before, a swirling beat. It rose and swooped like a bird, bringing with it and its beat of drums and flock of instruments a feeling and tone as upbeat as the pagan who was so insistent on getting a dance. Dum-daa-da-dum-da-dada-da-da-dum!

It was not a slow song that we danced to. Instead we twirled along with it, the clapping of hands clapping along mixed with delighted laughter, though we were the only ones that danced along to it and heard it, a grin growing on my face. The dark feeling that's been lodged in my throat lifted as we danced. It was a fun little jig that didn't seem to be tied down to a specific dance. I was disappointed when it ended to be honest.

Drapétis pretended to check a watch that did not exist, "I am sad that this time we share has come to an end, my new friend and even sadder to allow you to leave and go to where you are going, but alas I must. I will see you afterward? You'll need cheering up."

"What song was that?"

"A great one, wouldn't you say, freedom given form is what it feels to me. You will find Apollo at the palace atop Mount Olympus, you can't miss it, biggest one here."

"How do you-?"

"He is expecting you to show," he said seriously, "be careful... Crow."

And then he was gone, not sticking around to explain himself. I stared at where he had been, the music echoing in my head even as the tune outside my ears sounded more like Superheroes. I returned to the sea that was the crowd, weaving through on my way to the huge palace I could make out rising above all the others.

"Hi!" a cheerful pagan in the appearance of an eighteen years or so teenager was in my way as I tried to make my way through the crowd; he had two fluffy, white wings sprouting from his back, but I couldn't sense an inch of Grace within him, so he must be pagan, "going through a dry spell? I can fix it."

"Dry spell?"

"Yeah," he grinned as if I should understand what the hell he was talking about as he pulled out a bow and readied an arrow in it. The crowd weaved as if in reaction, giving him a clearance distance as if he made them as uneasy as he was making me. His bow wasn't as large as the one Apollo had used to load me full of arrows, but I was pretty sure it would still suck to get shot by it, "don't worry, it's kind of my thing. Pretty little thing like you going around forever alone? For shame! Come on, pick somebody and I bet you ten pieces of gold I can get you laid for the first time ever."

OH, "I'm fine, really, thank you for the offer."

"No! I swear!" he said with a grin, eyeing up the crowd which had shrunk away even more as if he had made a threat against them all, "I'm Eros! As I said, getting people laid is kind of my thing."

"I don't have any gold."

He pouted, putting his arrow back in his quiver, "you're no fun. At least there's still the trial later. But if you ever need help getting laid, just come find me."

The crowd seemed to relax, losing the clearance distance and pulling him into the crowd. I continued on my way, hoping I wouldn't run into any other pagan.

* * *

There were twelve huge thrones, each one with a different design, when I walked through the giant doors of the palace. I couldn't hear the muses from here and the silence now seemed suffocating. Swallowing down my fear and refocusing on my mission, one I've already spent time thinking over. I spread out my Grace, picking up on a single, familiar thing.

Relieved, I made my way towards it, through twisting corridors and fancy halls.

The dungeon was lit by flickering lanterns, not having as joyful a feeling as the lanterns strung up outside. My enhanced eyes still had no trouble picking out the limp form in the cell at the end, especially with the way the cuffs around his wrists that kept him hanging from the ceiling gleamed, obviously celestial gold. He was covered in a different kind of gold, ichor, which still bled from a dozen golden mouths on his bare chest and his arms and face. I hurried over, glancing around, but there seemed to be no guards. They must have found the party outside too good to resist.

"Apollo?" I whispered, but he didn't move. A quick check with my Grace proved that his pagan heart still beat. I felt guilty that I hadn't looked for him earlier, that I could have tried harder to find him. The idea left a bitter taste in my mouth; it seemed Apollo would always find himself failed by his archangel friend.

It took a couple times to get the hang of it but I managed to unlock the lock on the cell with the snap of my fingers, a trick I had learned from the cd; Apollo seemed to stir when the lock hit the ground and his fearful, golden eyes met my own.

"Hey, it's me," I promised, hurrying over to the door, but stopping midway when he flinched heavily, though I was nowhere close to him. I spread my wings, letting the familiar warmth flow through them, and recognition stirred in his eyes and he relaxed before tensing up again as his eyes flickered to something behind me.

Something sharp pressed against my back, making me go stiff as it pressed in on my spine, right between my wings, and I had to repress a shudder.

"As much as I like this view, I'm going to have to ask that you turn around... slowly."

I did as asked, staring into eyes that seemed a bit too familiar with the storms brewing in them. They held no lightning, but it seemed I could hear the crash of waves when I looked into them and I had a horrible dawning feeling that I knew who this was. My eyes flickered to the sword that had it's tip pressed against the scar that had followed me into this form, not that he could see the scar because it was closer to my gut.

"You may recognize this sword?" his eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth perked up in a smirk.

"You pagans often take what is not yours," I said coldly, forced to bare my neck as he lifted to hold it against my smooth throat.

"Like the way you took my brother's life?" the new leader of Olympus asked me, "but you are a pagan in your own way now, aren't you, Loki? Just can't help ourselves."

I stared him dead in the eyes with all the bravado of one who knows they are going to die but has already accepted it. My heart seemed to be beating out of my chest in utter terror at the idea of dying again.

"I believe I must thank you for killing my brother," Poseidon told me, "so I will let you live, archangel."

The sword that was increasing pressure on my neck did not seem to hold the same sentiment.

But hearing that I was not going to die did not seem to make my situation any brighter.

"You didn't honestly think you could make it all the way here without me noticing?" Poseidon asked me.

"I was hoping to shiv your ass too so you could meet up with your brother," I snapped, losing my filter for a second too long. I flinched as I discovered that speaking while your own blade is pressed against your throat is not a good idea, and the bit of myself that leaked from the cut in my vessel brought a bit more light to the room. Poseidon's gaze dropped to the Grace leaking from my vessel, watching as the wound from the sword was unable to simply immediately heal itself.

he let the word trail so that it was pressed against my gut again, "you came to get Apollo."

At my silence he pressed the sword in a bit, making me grit my teeth before I spoke, "yes. Apollo is innocent."

"Well any pagan with half a mind could tell that the second they've met the archangel he was supposedly shagging," Poseidon said, "but I'll need a little more than one little virgin to prove him innocent. He was plotting against the former king, after all, Ares shared that tidbit with us."

"Did Ares also tell you it was his plan and he was blackmailing Apollo into it?"

By the way his eyes darkened for a second and his grip on my sword tightened, I figured that Ares must have left that bit out. I could also tell that he wasn't planning on letting Apollo or I simply leave here.

"I want to make a deal," I said quickly, not really thinking about what the consequences of such a thing might be, "all crimes against Apollo will be dropped and if there are any crimes against me they will also be dropped. So there will be no further problems in the future, I will be considered an honorary pagan and you will all consider me as such. You will also heal the wounds done to Apollo and we will both be able to come and go as we please."

"And what, exactly, would I get for such a large request?"

"Anything you want that I can give you."


	24. Chapter 24

(I don't own Supernatural.)

Poseidon didn't hesitate to accept the deal and he knew exactly what he wanted from me; the entire ordeal lasted hours that felt like centuries. When he was finally done and had taken what he had wanted, he let Apollo fall in his cell, unlocking the shackles that kept him up, and left, leaving me in a heap on the floor.

Apollo had wasted no time in running to my side as Poseidon left; he'd stared at all the blood on the floor, slipping on a couple feathers that were laying in blood on his way to me, and quickly sang to silence my cries of pain and grant me reprieve from my pain by knocking me out via song.

I woke up on a cot, laying on my stomach. Everything ached and hurt and I went to try and move but a hand shoved me back down. It seemed I was back in my normal form, my vessel male and just as it had originally been; I was also shirtless and wearing a pair of ancient looking shorts. Not ancient as in old, ancient as in it looked like something the ancient people from before there were light bulbs in Egypt or Greece would wear in the drawings in your textbook, not that they were in any said textbooks but it seemed like something they'd wear.

"Stop, just... just.. you'll pull your stitches, " Apollo's voice reached me and I relaxed with the knowledge that I was safe. My mind refused to turn it's gears, lest my mind go back to what I had lost, "you need to take it easy, Lokes."

I let out a groan and let my head slump back into the pillow. I heard a thud as Apollo dropped back into his seat and the silence stretched for a couple minutes.

"Why did you make that deal?"

I didn't feel like answering. It didn't seem like my silence helped the situation.

"Why the Underworld would you do that, Loki!? Not to mention you risked your life sneaking into Olympus! What kind of dumbass sneaks into enemy territory and straight into Olympus and thinks he won't be noticed or expected!? And was that your plan along!? Knowing you'd be caught so you thought, hey, why don't I take my dumbass little bastard self all the way to Olympus and make the stupidest deal in a lifetime, they won't even have to look for me because I'M DELIVERING MYSELF TO THEM LIKE THE ARCHANGEL EQUIVALENT OF A FEDEX PACKAGE! WHAT THE UNDERWORLD WERE YOU THINKING!?"

I cringed at the loudness of his voice and he stopped his angry rant, though I figured it was justified. I went to move but he angrily mumbled something about stitches and made me stop.

"I... a hundred years ago I got you killed and when you came back I ruined everything for you..." I paused, but he didn't say anything so I continued, "and then I just... was a complete and utter asshole to you for something that wasn't entirely your fault. Killed your dad right in front of you-"

"He had that coming."

"Shut up, I'm having a moment," I snapped at him, "see? I'm an asshole."

"You have, like, a thousand stitches and a couple burns, I think you're justified."

"Burns?"

"I had to cauterize some of your injuries."

I took a deep breath before continuing, "what I'm trying to say is that you've been my friend, one that it seems I once trusted with my life, and that's a rare thing to come by among pagans, and you've dealt with all my shit and been risking your own ass trying to get my memories back and I've just been..." I trailed off, trying to find an accurate term.

"Like one of the Furies only with a toothache?"

"Exactly. And when I saw you in that cell... I knew I had to make it up to you."

I could feel his eyes burning into my bare back for a couple minutes as he thought I'd over; finally he sighed and I could hear him run his hand through his hair in frustration, "that wasn't the way to do it, Loki."

"It worked, didn't it?" I said bitterly, "we're both off the Wanted list and back to pagan status."

"You're still an Archangel, Loki."

"Not anymore."

* * *

Poseidon sat proudly on his throne, watching with a neutral expression as Apollo helped me into the main hall as requested. I tried not to glance Poseidon's way.

"Apollo, you may take your seat," Poseidon said.

Apollo cast me a worried glance, pausing a second to make sure I wouldn't fall without him there for me to lean on. My legs burned and I swayed on my feet with no sense of balance, but I managed to stay standing, so Apollo hesitantly moved to his own throne, casting a worried glance around at all the Olympians.

Like any seasoned politician, the lies that flooded from the sea pagan were as smooth as a positive truth, "my fellow Olympians, I have caught, interrogated, and killed the Archangel who had been possessing our fellow pagan, Loki."

A murmur swept through them but none spoke loud enough for it to be addressed.

"I have spoken with the leaders of the others, Odin especially, and all have managed to agree with me on allowing Loki to be pardoned of all crimes against him that were committed by him under the control of the Archangel."

"How so we know the Archangel isn't still in there?" one of the Olympians spoke up.

"Athena, dear niece," Poseidon said without a beat of hesitation, "I have already tested him. Hephaestus, if you would kindly lower that torch to the floor?"

Hephaestus did as asked and my heart skipped a beat as a circle of flame rose around me. My Grace did not press against any invisible barriers when I spread it out to test the flames, so Poseidon must have purposely neglected to choose holy oil.

"Loki, if you would step out of the circle to prove that you are no longer a vessel to the Archangel?"

I nodded, taking a shaky step over the flames and nearly falling on the other side. I felt like I had filled myself full of helium and fire, my legs nearly giving out.

"As you can see, Loki is still suffering from being possessed for so long," Poseidon said with a sadness so fake I bet even Ares with his tiny brain could see that he didn't care what state I was in, "but I believe we have all seen enough to see that he is no longer possessed."

The Olympians spoke among themselves, seemingly accepting the lie Poseidon had spun. I even got a few pitying looks, though one of them who could be none other than Aphrodite checked out my six pack from her seat instead of giving me a pity look.

It seemed like forever before they agreed to my innocence, and then they spoke of Apollo's innocence. Poseidon drew a tale of how he and Apollo had been tricking me, the Archangel me at least, with the idea of friendship and Apollo had actually lured the Archangel to Olympus, where Poseidon had defeated and gotten rid of the Archangel, making himself sound like the hero who'd rescued poor little Loki. I had to bite my tongue to avoid lashing out with my legendary silver tongue (though I'd need to get a few more memories back before I was capable of living up to that title). Poseidon had assured them that it had been friendship Apollo had faked, nothing more, no benefits.

And then, finally, they adjourned.

I nearly collapsed from exhaustion as they decided they were done and could go their separate ways for the time being, but Apollo had returned to my side to keep me upright, helping me stumble back to the med bay. I feel I've moved enough today, and collapsed on my cot shivering and trembling. A hellhound could have shown up and torn into me and I wouldn't have been able to find enough energy or enough of the ability to care to have even so much as twitch.

Apollo didn't say anything, simply checked my temperature by pressing his forearm against my forehead and throwing a light blanket over me, which he wouldn't let me tuck around myself. To be honest I would have accepted death by Hellhound right about then.

I was only barely aware of the knock on the door, not really registering it through the haze of pain that seemed to have settled over my body and mind. Apollo left my side to go check it, but I kind of faded out until he was lightly tapping on my shoulder. I hissed in pain and he stopped, waiting patiently while I stared at him with dim eyes.

Apollo held up the basket he held before placing it on the stand next to my cot where I could better see the basket's contents. My friend picked the card out from within the basket heaped with sweets and foods, some of which I didn't recognize though a lot of my favorites were in it, "feel up to reading, Lokes? Somebody sent you a get well basket."

I held my hand up and he put the letter in my hand. I nearly dropped it as I opened it, my eyes having to scan over the words within it several time before they registered.

 _I keep track of my runaways, Gabe. You'll find some of your favorites, hmm? Just don't drop the wrappers on the floor, will you? You of all people should realize how much it sucks picking up people's candy wrappers, having been a janitor yourself._

 _Get well soon,_

 _Drapétis_


	25. Chapter 25

(I don't own Supernatural. Sorry about last chapter being short, but this one is longer to make up for it.)

"C'mon, Lokes, at least take a couple steps," Apollo urged me, "it can't be that hard."

My legs trembled as I held on tightly to the cot I'd spent all of yesterday on. I stared pitifully at Apollo, who stood about a foot away from me. I felt sick at the idea of trying to walk. Neither of us commented on why that was, both knowing that saying what had happened aloud would merely accept what had happened as truth.

I felt tears swelling in my eyes and I tried to blink them away; if I broke down, then my denial would all collapse, "I.. I can't."

"You can," he prompted me, holding his arms out, "come on, Lokes, I'll catch you if you start to fall."

"I'll walk weird."

"No you won't."

"It will hurt."

"It won't."

I eyed the short distance like a hangman eyes the gallows.

"Don't you want to get back to Cas and Sera?"

I took a deep breath and took a step forward, having to throw my arms out to balance myself; I practically fell on Apollo by the time I made three steps, clinging to him as if I wouldn't be able to get back up if I fell.

"See?"

"I told you, I can't!"

"But you just did!"

"I was never supposed to," I shook my head, "I can't do it, Apollo!"

"Stop, okay?" he patted my shoulder, careful to avoid my back, "just calm down?"

"Calm? I'm calm, I am."

"It can't be that hard, Lokes, I don't have wings and I walk just fine."

It was the closest either of us had come to mentioning it and it plunged us into a deadly silence. Apollo helped me back to the cot, but neither of us spoke until I was seated on the cot.

"I can't do this, Apollo," I said, wrapping my arms around myself, the tears falling when my hands brushed against my bare back, "if you've ever been my friend, I need you to get my sword from Poseidon and you need to run me through with it. Look, I even have this scar that serves as a big target, stab me right here."

"Look, today's just a bad day," Apollo sighed, the thud that sounded as he dropped into his chair sounded like a death sentence, his face tired and weary, "we can try walking again tomorrow. This isn't something we can just fix today, I get it, you need time. But until then, no getting stabbed with angel swords, doctor's orders."

Silence.

"I told you the deal wasn't worth it, Lokes."

* * *

"This is humiliating," I grumbled, head resting on the hand which had the elbow connected to it on the arm rest. It seemed I was healing alright and didn't have to worry as much about tearing my stitches, but I still didn't feel like being wheeled around Olympus like I was helpless.

"Shush, since you don't feel like walking I am going to be rolling you around," Apollo said, making sure I was comfortable before giving the wheelchair an experimental push. The wheels didn't make a single squeak, "besides, everybody knows that you're still recovering from 'being possessed' so they'll think nothing of it. Lot of pagans use wheelchairs occasionally, it's why we have them here."

"Still humiliating."

"Is this the bit you find humiliating or that I got to watch you scream yourself hoarse?" Apollo snapped at me, "make up your mind, Loki. For somebody who agreed to having his wings chopped off you sure have been complaining a lot about it."

I looked away, the words he said hitting denial's walls like a cannonball thrown by a trebuchet.

Apollo rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a sharp huff of pent up frustration, "just... I shouldn't have said that. You couldn't have known that's what he would do."

"Can we just... wait until tomorrow to go outside?"

Apollo gave me a look that had more of a begging tone to it than a starving dog.

"Fine," I sighed, "okay."

"We can go tomorrow," Apollo decided.

Thank Dad for that.

* * *

Nobody seemed to pay much attention to us, though I could hear inaudible whispering occasionally. We had yet to run into any of Apollo's fellow Olympians, so none of the pagans dared to speak about either of us in our presence, whether it be Apollo's Olympian status or whatever sort of reputation Loki had; maybe it was both factors that kept the gossip from our ears.

I had had all of yesterday to emotionally prepare myself for going outside today, but I still felt nervous and so painfully helpless, the feeling of the back of the wheelchair pressing against my back instead of smooth, soft feathers felt even odder than not having wings to help me balance. Without the weight of the wings and the shift of their weight, I had no idea how to operate without them.

Despite all the complaining I had originally done over my wings, I'd much rather have them back on my back than as a prize on Poseidon's throne, my former wingspan motionless and stiff, a symbol of Poseidon's so called battle against an Archangel.

Thinking about what I had lost left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I let out a sigh of boredom as I watched Apollo barter with the pagan running one of the stands, trying to lower the price of an item from a single, young bull from Apollo's herd of sacred cows to an old bull and an old cow.

It was right about then that a very friendly littl satyr came right up to me, the first being to do so on my day out so far. She had a nest of curly brown hair that almost covered the two little stubs on top of her head that would one day be horns, her little thumb in her mouth and a glint in her bright, forest green eyes, and her little goat tail seemed to wag on her lower half, which was the lower half of a brown furred goat. With no parent in sight, this little satyr seemed to hold no fears of me, not scurrying away at the sight of me like the adult satyrs I had seen shying away from Apollo or shivering in the presence of pagans, and there were a lot of pagans here.

"Is it true you mated with a horse?" she asked innocently without a single care in the world.

It completely derailed me from my train of angsty thoughts and I stared at her, brain recalculating, "what did you say?"

She happily repeated her question.

According to the memory I had gotten before I turned into Fenrir and killed Zeus, the answer to her question was no.

"Well," I said, leaning forward, elbows resting on my knees, "I have to say that that particular myth about me was blown way out of proportion. You see, when I was trying to stop the giant while he worked with his horse, my own horse, a mare, got scared and ran off. By the time I finally found my horse, she had a cute little, eight legged Sleipnir trotting by her side."

She giggled as I waved my fingers to represent Sleipnir's many legs.

"And Odin is a big meanie, so he took little Sleipnir without even asking," I faked a pout, "but I still have my horse, so it's okay."

"Did Odin take Sleipnir away from his mommy?"

"As I said, Odin is a big meanie, so yeah. Don't worry, they're both in the same stable, so they still get to see each other," I had absolutely no idea if any of what I was saying was true.

"I don't like it when animals get taken away from their mommies," the satyr agreed with me.

"Speaking of mothers, where is yours, my little satyr friend?" I asked her, glancing around to see if I could spot any satyrs, though the few that I could see were most definitely staring at us with utmost terror as if I would snap the little child's neck.

"Mommy's at home. Daddy took me to the market with him!" she said happily, "but I wandered off. Is he going to be angry?"

"Not if we can find him," I assured her, "I bet he's really worried though."

She nodded in agreement.

I glanced at Apollo, but he was still arguing with the man at the stand. Steeling myself, I tried to stand up out of the wheelchair, falling a couple times before finding a pinch of balance. The kid satyr hopped excitedly at my heels as I took a couple, swaying steps before managing myself. I stuck to the side of buildings as I continued onward a little bit, using the marble to balance myself.

"Okay, I think I have this walking thing cover-," I let out a squeak as I almost fell, "okay, maybe I have farther to go on this walking thing."

"Why can't you walk?" she hopped around my feet, almost tripping me a couple times but I didn't mind.

"Well, I had the Archangel controlling me, remember? It's been a long time since I was able to walk myself."

"That makes sense, I guess."

"Yep. Where did you last see your dad?"

She thought it over before responding, "um, it was near... near the satyr area."

"They have an area? Very well, let us go find your father."

The little satyr was happy to lead me towards the satyr area. Partly true to its name, the satyr area was the area of Olympus where the non-pagans lived and full of a lot of satyrs. It was fearful looks we received when they saw that a pagan was among them, most of them quite skitterish at the sight of me and giving me and the little satyr child a wide berth, watching warily as I limped along, using the walls of buildings to support myself and feeling absolutely exhausted by the whole experience.

The little satyr made an excited squeal as she spotted one of the satyrs that looked the most fearful, "there he is! That one is my dad!"

"Good, go on then," I told her, nodding towards her dad.

She hugged me before running off to her father, who practically collapsed into her hug in relief. It hadn't occurred to me before now just how scared these people were of the pagans they shared Olympus with. The satyr who was her father met my eyes a single time, mouthing the words 'thank you' to me.

Satisfied that the little girl was now safe, I turned around and started making my way back to the pagan area. I had my own caretaker to get back to, after all, one who was probably going to be pretty ticked by my little stroll.

* * *

Apollo was not ticked about my little stroll. In fact, he was practically ecstatic that I had gone for a walk. I, meanwhile, was ecstatic to collapse into the wheelchair, dreading the moment I would have to walk again. I didn't offer up my explanation, but Apollo did not ask for it, merely accepting that I had left and was now back. Perhaps it was his happiness over the barter with the vendor going favorably towards Apollo.

"After we're done here we can head back to the Hunters," Apollo decided, scanning a row of shiny jewelry at one of the stands.

I said nothing, eyeing the display for a moment and wondering if my Hunters liked jewelry; probably not, I've never seen them wearing it, although something with a lot of expensive stuff on it they could probably pawn off and the jewelry here was all pretty cheap. I grabbed a bunch of stuff made out of stuff that wasn't celestial. Apollo had no problem paying for them for me, seeming happy at every opportunity to show off his wealth to the lower pagans.

"That one matches your eyes," Apollo teased as we resumed walking (well, he walked, I was in the wheelchair) as I looked through what I had gotten. I gave him a dirty look before striking a pose.

"It's because I'm fabulous."

He laughed and I dropped them all from my lap into my satchel, something we'd both gotten one of at one of the stands. I wasn't looking forward to leaving Olympus; I didn't want Castiel to see that my wings were gone because I just knew he'd get mad at me for making such a deal with a pagan, something I probably could have turned into a mist of blood and body parts with a simple snap back in my prime.

But the Hunters? I'm not planning on letting them ever know what I had lost.

* * *

"I..I just can't take you seriously like that," Apollo grinned across the table at me, glancing over his deck of cards.

I glared at him.

He stared at me before smirking and putting his deck down, "okay, I fold. I can't read your expressions when you don't really have any."

My little rabbit nose twitched and I showed my deck of crappy cards with a sense of triumph at my first win in a while, "donkey ears, cause you're an ass."

He rolled his eyes, his new ears twitching as we got new decks from the card pile in the middle. My rabbit ears twitched as I stared at yet another crappy hand, "are you cheating?"

"Isn't Immortal Poker fun?" Apollo said instead of answering.

"Cheating is punishable by death, I will hurt you if you're cheating," I bared my coyote teeth, throwing down my cards angrily and standing up on my little rabbit feet, nearly falling off the stack of phone books that I had had to grab after Apollo had chosen rabbit body, my white tailed deer tail twitching.

"Calm down, I'm not cheating," he said, smirking as he checked the score and updated it, "hmmm, antlers."

I grumbled angrily and snapped, giving myself antlers.

"You are the oddest jackalope I have ever seen," Apollo grinned, "bam, full house."

The smug bastard still only had his donkey ears and a long fluffy cat tail.

"Person," I warned, one of my rabbit ears twitching as well as my little bunny nose. We both snapped, turning ourselves back into our normal forms just as the door of the laundromat opened. The lady who walked in glanced over us as she carried her laundry towards one of the washers before she froze and glanced back, face going beat red. She hurriedly stuffed her clothes in and started the washer, glancing at us every now and then.

"Acts like she's never seen two dudes in their boxers playing cards in a laundromat before," Apollo grumbled, glancing over his cards at her while we waited for her to leave. I angrily plopped the phone books I didn't currently need onto the table.

"Probably because there usually aren't two dudes in their boxers playing cards in laundromats," I huffed angrily, "I do believe having one set of clothes isn't the norm."

"You do have a point," he hummed thoughtfully, "when she leaves and we resume where we left off, I choose for you to have a tiara on your little bunny head."

"I can have a tuft of scruffy fur, I can't snap up clothes and accessories," I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, chicken feet then."

I grumbled angrily. I'd much rather have waited until we got back to the Hunters before stopping, but the slush outside hadn't agreed with my new lack of balance and I'd dragged Apollo down with me when I had slipped and toppled into a puddle. Alright, so I had pulled him in while he stood by and laughed at me, but what's the difference? Luckily Apollo is much like a forge in the amount of heat that continuously radiates from his body, so it hadn't been long before we were both dry simply by sitting across from each other. I felt a pang in my chest after my mind wandered to how long it would have taken for my wings to dry before my much too light bare back reminded me of my situation.

Apollo seemed to sense the turn in my mood, or maybe he simply had a crappy deck, for he frowned at his cards and glanced at me, "this one is crap, I fold again."

"Lucky you, I had a royal flush," I said, glancing at his deck as he plopped them down on the table before I laid my own cards down, a play that would have indeed lost against mine. Unfortunately for him, the rules of Immortal Poker said this was still a win for me, "cow feet."

"What is with you and barn animals today?" he smirked.

"Shut up, Sunchild, I may as well be a children's book fairy tale reject."

"Aww, but your fluffy little bunny form is so cute."

"Rabbits do not have antlers, coyote teeth, cat whiskers or a deer tail, Apollo. I hate this game."

The washer our stuff was in finally finished and I got up and switched it to a dryer before returning to my seat.

The lady had left while I had switched Apollo and I's laundry, but Apollo hadn't resumed his donkey ears or cat tail or given himself cow feet by the time I sat back down at the table. Instead he turned the paper he was writing on over and cut the deck, "new game?"

"Sure."

"Full house, I win the first round," Apollo said after we'd put forth our cards, "cat ears."

I sighed and snapped my fingers.


	26. Chapter 26

(I don't own Supernatural)

"No, we don't want to rent a room," I was starting to get frustrated, "the people that were staying in the room, are they still renting it?"

The girl at the counter popped her bubblegum, barely looking up from her phone, "wait, so you don't want the room?"

For the love of my Father, Father forbid you look away from your tinder or whatever the hell kind of dating app that is, "no, I'm not renting a room."

"So that's a no," she said, swiping her screen.

"Right," I said, thank Dad, are we getting somewhere?

"Huh?" she glanced up at me.

For the love of-

"Hi," Apollo stepped up beside me just as I was reaching for my gun; a single flash of his sunny grin and a tilt of his head to show off his crew cut's best side and the teen went from hooked on the men in the app to the man right in front of her, "we were wondering about room 8? The people renting it are friends of ours, but they don't seem to be there. Can you check to see if they've checked out?"

"S-Sure," she nodded, hurrying over to check the log book, phone forgotten.

"Be less Archangel, more pagan," Apollo suggested to me, "come on, Lokes, there was once a time where you could make the spotlight fall on you with a simple twitch of your lips."

"I'm sorry that my teeth aren't made of rays of pure sunshine, sunchild," I narrowed my eyes at him.

He laughed, but by then the girl had come back, seeming to have composed herself. She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and did this weird thing with her eyes that made me wonder if I should ask her if she had something in them, "they checked out yesterday."

"Darn," his grin faltered for but a second before he glanced at me, "I told you we should have left sooner."

"Well maybe we would have if you had been more insistent."

He took a minute to give me an irritated fake smile before turning it realistic and winking at the girl, "I cannot thank you enough. Come on, Lokes-"

"Wait!" she said quickly, slipping a slip of paper across towards Apollo, "its my, uh, it's my number, if you want, I mean."

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm already taken, aren't I, sweetie?" he slipped his arm around my shoulders. I grumbled but put on my Loki mask and gave him a smile so sweet it could rot a mortal's teeth while thinking of all the ways I could murder him with the objects in our environment.

"Right, darling," I cooed, letting death flash in my eyes.

"Oh, OH," her face went scarlet, "r-right, yeah, okay. Um, h-have a nice day."

The second we were out the door I shoved his arm off, grumbling angrily under my breath.

"I like older woman," Apollo said casually, "not like, older woman-older woman, except maybe Aphrodite I could hit that no problem, but you know, I'm talking older than eighteen? You know?"

"How gentlemanly," I rolled my eyes, "pull something like that again and I'll reconsider the friendship status."

"Is that's good thing or a bad thing?"

"Best case scenario for you is death."

"Ah, asshole Gabriel version of Lokes, how I've missed you."

I tried to glare at him but I ended up cracking a grin, which he returned.

"Alright, how did you find me?"

"My Grace radar."

"So you can use it to find the Hunters, right?"

I nodded and closed my eyes to concentrate better; I'd never focused on them before, but I would know them if I sensed them. Except I didn't sense them. I stretched my Grace out farther, wincing as I sent it farther until it wrapped around, leaving no place on Earth unchecked, yet I couldn't pick up on them anywhere, even after double checking and triple checking.

When I finally opened my eyes, my Grace felt sore, much like a muscle after a strenuous exercise. The sky was also dark, but Apollo stood beside me, peeking up when I shifted, "took you long enough, where are they?"

"I... I don't know," I admitted, my heart sinking into the pits of my stomach.

Apollo put his hands on my shoulders, "look at me, Lokes. Stay positive, they're most likely perfectly fine. Is it possible to bypass an Archangel?"

"Maybe if there's wards or something," I said after a couple minutes of silence.

"Well there we go," he grinned, "so why would they hide themselves from Archangels?"

"The Winchesters and Castiel already have stuff to keep them from the eyes of angels and Archangels," I frowned; my Hunters didn't have anything, why would they need to? Maybe they'd finally gotten sick of me and my disappearing acts, "but Cassandra and Sera don't."

"Well then they must have had to, so let's think," Apollo said, "Lucifer is in the cage, so that leaves Michael and Raphael in Heave-"

"Raphael is dead, Michael is in the cage..." the last tidbit I was to utter was the hardest to say, "Lucifer walks free."

Fear shimmered over his features before he clamped down on his emotions, face going into a calm mask, "the devil walking free seems like a really good incentive. It might be possible that they got spooked."

"Right," I said, shutting my eyes tightly; normally I would have wrapped my wings around myself by this point, something that was remarkably good at making me feel better. I stiffened when Apollo hugged me, the warmth radiating from him as warm as my wings. I could almost imagine that it was my wings wrapped around me instead of Apollo hugging me.

"Stay positive, Lokes," he said when he finally stepped back, all his years showing in his eyes, "I know better than anyone just how much damage negativity can do to someone."

"Apollo, you can leave if you want," the words hurt to say but they were words I needed to say, "I'm not the same Loki that you knew hundred years ago. If you're staying with me to keep yourself safe, don't, I can barely keep myself safe. If you're staying thinking that you owe me, don't, since you don't owe me anything because I'm the one who got you into that mess. If you're waiting hoping one day I'll be useful, then don't waste your breath."

"Loki, if you're telling me to leave you'd better look me in the eyes while you do it," he said, as if sensing that I couldn't look him in the eyes and tell him to leave, "you're my best friend, Loki, and I've just gotten you back after spending a hundred years in Purgatory. Have you ever been to Purgatory? It sucks, a lot. To be honest you're the only one I actually trust, especially after what you did to get me out of being executed in front of all of Olympus. You may not remember being my friend, but that doesn't change the fact that you've been my best friend ever since I first met you when I was five days old and you taught me the hard way not to pick on mortals for the hell of it. I mean, sure, it took a little bit before I began to think of you more as a friend more than the annoying pagan that's been following me around everywhere making sure I'm not bugging mortals, but that's not the point. When you have a good hand in Immortal Poker you always make a bit of disappointment settle on your face for only a second before going Poker face and when you have a bad hand you get a smug smirk on your face as if you've gotten the best one yet. You have never been able to change your eye color when you shapeshift. You're a sucker for animals and little kids. When you suspect a fight is near or if tensions rise your hand always shifts towards your jacket; I know now that's because that's where you used to keep your sword. When you get angry you grind your teeth and you get this really fake smile on your face that honestly has always creeped me out. You remember almost everything you read or hear. You love irony, it's your favorite thing and whenever you come across it in a book you get this little grin on your face. Lokes, I know all this about you and more and you know a lot of things about me, you just don't remember that you do right now but one day you will. You're my best friend, Loki, and I'm not going anywhere."

"That was beautiful, Clarence..." I had to blink back a couple tears even, "Apollo... I- wait a minute, you were so cheating at Immortal Poker!"

"It's not my fault you have tells," Apollo beamed, nearly blinding me with his smile, which was still as bright as the sun, "as I said, you'll remember my tells. But it just proves my point that you're still Loki, memories or no memories."

"I was a jackalope with a deer tail by the end of the game!"

"I thought you looked adorable."

I grit my teeth and went to stomp off, forgetting for a moment that I still wasn't used to walking since I was still off balance, but Apollo was there by my side like always, lending a shoulder for me to lean on.

"Maybe I should go find the wheelchair-"

"I'm good, I'm good," I argued, not wanting to look as helpless as I felt, "we should... we should get going."

"Right," he nodded, "which way would they go?"

"To the next place that needs them most likely," I said, glancing around as if a trail would light up and lead the way. Follow the yellow brick road, am I right? A yellow brick road would be very helpful right now.

"Fantastic," Apollo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up, "because that closes so many doors."

My face fell, realizing he was right. What if I never saw them again? Had saving Apollo really been worth all this? To be honest I don't think I'd leave him there if I had the chance to go back and redo my crappy rescue attempt.

"We're pagans," Apollo said, eyes snapping to me when my face fell, "and they're mortals. How hard could it be not to find them? If anything they'll be as easy to find as a needle in a haystack when you have a blowtorch."

"Uh, what?"

"You know, you burn all the hay and then only the needle is left- you know what, it doesn't matter. What does matter is you getting better. The mortals aren't going anywhere."

"Apollo, they kind of are."

He narrowed his eyes, "sure, alright, let me get the wheelchair."

"Resting sounds great," as worried as I was, I've had enough of walking for one day.

"Wonderful, glad you agree," Apollo grinned, glancing around, "you don't happen to have money do you?"

"I thought you were rich."

"Olympian wise; Hermes is the one you go to to exchange currency for other currency."

"So call Hermes."

"We haven't really gotten along since he stole my cows."

"You and your cows.."

"What's wrong with my cows?"

"Just... why cows?"

"I'll have you know that cows are very important."

"Look at me, I have sacred cows. I am so cool that a baby stolethem from me but he gave me some weird thing that I can't remember, so whatever, take my cows. Moo for me, girls."

"There's bulls, too."

"Moo for me, boys."

Apollo huffed, irritation on his face, "do you have money or not?"

"Better. I have experience in the art of living with no money."

* * *

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"Well, I had feathers and a coat at the time, so tonight might be a little cold," I said, the box I was pulling scraping against the ground before I tossed it on my little box setup. Remembering a sarcastic comment he once made to me I quoted his own words back to him with just as much sarcasm, "we can cuddle, you'll love it."

"That's not funny."

"I think it is."

"Something about this seems illegal," Apollo hovered around me, out of the way and in the way at the same time as I set up base for the night.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Is it illegal to be homeless?"

"Don't tell me you've actually slept outside like this!"

"For about a year, I believe. Winter sucked, rainy days sucked, windy days sucked, every day sucked. I was a bit put off too about it, but I had no idea who I was and knew absolutely nothing about who I am except that things exploded when I got angry."

"If I had known-"

"How? Do they get mail in Tartarus? I think you were still dead at the time."

"You don't honestly expect me to sleep on the dirty ground-"

"I don't expect you to sleep on the ground," I smirked, "I expect you to sleep in a box. You're lucky, this one you might actually be able to close the top of if you curl up in a little ball."

"Do you know how bad that is for your health?"

"Shut up, doc, we're sleeping in boxes."

"Of all the things to get you out of a slump the idea of sleeping in a box is what cheers you up?"

"I really like the idea of a high and mighty Olympian having to sleep in a box, yes, it cheers me up greatly, especially with all the fuss you're making. Look, we'll both fit in this one."

"We're both sleeping in that one box?"

"Unless you have duct tape to make these boxes over here," I said, checking the slant of the flat boxes I had leaning against the corner before shoving the box I planned on sleeping in on top of the pile of flat boxes I had out on top of the snow, "of course, you radiate heat like a forge, sunchild, so there is now way I'm sleeping in a cold box in a short sleeve shirt in winter without a coat otherwise. You don't even need to be in the box, you can sit your little ass right in the doorway and stay up all night, it's not like us pagans actually need sleep but I prefer sleep to walking through the slush and snow all night."

To be honest I had been planning on Apollo's Olympian pride keeping him standing outside my little box lean-to and letting me have the box all to myself; with him standing nearby, he'd still be my own little personal heater. To my dismay, apparently he wasn't as prideful as his father, Zeus, because he climbed in the box anyways.

I frowned at his smug face for a minute, but sharing a box was not going to keep me from sleeping in the box, "scoot over, sunchild."

He stared at me, probably having known I had planned on having the box for myself; Apollo had not considered the idea that I did not give a crap and was sleeping in the box whether he was in the box or not.

"Make room," I clarified, climbing into the box. It was a little cramped with the two of us and to be honest I was purposely squishing him a bit because I didn't really want to share my box, but Apollo didn't say anything so I didn't say anything either. I watched the snow fall for a little bit before finally speaking, "you know, I did all the work, this box should be mine."

Apollo opened his eyes a bit to give me an exasperated look before closing his eyes. I was still awake by the time his breathing evened out into sleep.

Staying awake seemed a lot better than the nightmares that were no doubt waiting for me in sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

(I don't own Supernatural. I love having to ride the elementary bus home because I go to pm tech, I mean, I didn't even sell my soul and yet here I am in Hell, isn't that wonderful? I love feeling like my IQ has gone down several points just from listening to them bitch at each other and spread the racist part of Trump's propaganda. Yep, just love listening to children who think all Chinese people are evil and should die and that disabled people should be mocked; thanks, Trump, making America great again one racist/sexist person at a time. Please don't let people think groping woman is okay either. Because I don't care if I go to jail, if one more guy tries to grope me I'm gonna go all Negan and Lucille on their ass.) I'm not crazy I'm just a little unwell :

"Ow."

"That doesn't hurt," Apollo shifted.

"It did. Ow! Not so hard."

"Don't be a baby... there, done."

"Thank Dad for that," I hopped out of the box, pulling on my shoes and reaching for my shirt. It was a lot easier to pull it on now that there were no stitches pulling at it as I pulled it down. A pang of pain swelled in my chest, but I shoved it down and fixed the patch in denial mountain. Don't think about it, don't mention it, don't acknowledge it.

Don't realize how odd it feels not to feel them shifting on your back, not ever going to feel the wind rustle through the feathers, or spread them out to catch a draft or air current. I took a deep breath, forcing it down.

I felt a little sad about leaving behind such a nice box set up, but I hoped if there were any homeless around they could use it.

"They might go through Nashville," Apollo climbed out of the box, dumping the stitches that he had pulled out of my back into a garbage can. He probably would have dumped it in a snow bank, but the snow had melted a bit overnight, "it's nearby."

"Apollo, I think we need to head back to Olympus," I said, checking to make sure my shoes were tied. I had had a lot of time to think last night ad was pretty certain that the next step in my plan was going back for my sword, "we can head to Nashville afterwards."

"You're kidding," he frowned, "you want to go back there? What about-"

"I need my sword."

"You expect Poseidon to just hand over the only thing he has that can kill an Archangel?"

"Maybe not just hand it over."

Apollo stared at me before sighing, "there may be a way we can get it without having to go back."

* * *

"Leave it to you to come running," the scrawny man in front of us grinned; he didn't look much like his roman form, even seemed to be entirely different, but maybe that's just a Greek/roman thing, "and you even brought your fuckbuddy, isn't that wonderful?"

"Hermes," Apollo got the words out through his teeth, "it's been a while. I have a favor to ask you."

"Hmm," he downed the drink in his shot glass, looking me over over the rim of his glass, "mmm, you could be my fuckbuddy if you want."

"Hermes," Apollo said, sharper this time, "I can always go ask somebody else."

"Usually people want something when they contact me," Hermes grinned, glancing at me again before his eyes darted back to Apollo, "what do you two need? Besides a lesson on sharing?"

"We want you to steal the Archangel sword from Poseidon and give it to us," I said.

"And in return I get...?"

I opened my mouth to speak but Apollo clamped his hand over my mouth, giving me a glare that clearly conveyed his point even as he whispered in my ear, "you are not making any more deals."

Hermes had amusement in his eyes by the time Apollo looked to him, "I can throw in a couple of my cows... once we have the sword of course... how does five sound?"

"I could steal five of your cows in my sleep."

"No more than eight."

"Sounds like a debt," Hermes smirked, "I do love a challenge. Hang around, I'll have it to you quicker than the Flash."

Hermes snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"I'm guessing you two don't get along that well," I said, sitting down at the bar and glancing around. The bartender was a demigod, Dionysus spawn I think, and it seemed perhaps Olympians got things on the house because he handed Apollo a drink free of charge (and a free one to me by extension) though I didn't immediately down mine. The bouncer outside was one of Hecate's children, making sure this bar stayed pagan only.

I grabbed a pen and started doodling on my napkin; it wasn't long before I had a doodle of a cross-eyed, fluffy furred cat with its tongue sticking out of its mouth.

"What's that?" Apollo leaned over to see better, already on his second shot; I swear the guy can drink like a Winchester.

"Zeus the derp cat," I answered.

"Dude! That's my dad!" Apollo frowned, scrutinizing my little drawing, "make his eyes more cross eyed."

I grinned and did so, downing my own glass afterwards and barely paying attention as the bartender replaced the empty glass with a full one. The idea that every time I get drunk it's ended badly so far was a dim reminder in my brain.

Five more glasses, one Nectar Bloody Mary and one Nectar Margarita later and Apollo was pulling me off the dance floor and back over to the bar, sparing only a single glance of annoyance out onto the floor for my now missing shirt, "where's your shirt?"

"There wassssss was a- ee very nice lady in the bathroom."

"A lady in the bathroom took your shirt?"

"Afro Nightie... Afro... Afro something."

"Exactly where did you go when you left me at the bar?"

"Pretzzzels."

Hermes was leaning on the bar with a bored look on his face by the time we reached him, examining the blade of the sword that had been used to chop off my wings. Fortunately that fact couldn't seem to register in my head at the moment. He glanced up as we neared, eyes looking me up and down, "well, one of us had fun tonight it seems."

"There was a- waasss was a lady in the bathroom."

"Lady in the bathroom? Which one?"

"Man? She said... she someth bout Afro Nighties?" I frowned before opening my hand and examining the slip of paper in it, "whazz a booty call?"

"Booty call? Are you talking about Aphrodite?" Hermes perked up, glancing at the paper with the number on my hand, "are you telling me that you got it on with Aphrodite and she put you on speed dial? Dude, forget the cows, I'll give you the sword for that number right there."

"I... nothing got on? Wee, I went back for a Bloody Mary? They're frisbee. She left this mark on my neck though-"

"You almost got it on with Aphrodite but instead you went to go get a Bloody Mary?" Hermes grinned at me, "you are more tipsy than a wasp beneath an apple tree, aren't you?"

I handed him the number and he nearly dropped the sword, hurriedly handing it to me and examining the slip of paper with the numbers on it that was now in his hand, "wow. Dude, you ever need anything, just give me a call."

With a grin on his face he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"You almost got it on with Aphrodite?"

"She was very nice."

"I bet she was," he smirked, shaking his head at me, "come on, you little party animal, I think you've had enough for the night."

I examined the blade of my sword, moving my hand and watching the light gleam off of it. Finally I returned it to its proper place. My Grace shimmered, making a spot for it and I watched it as my arm tucked it into a holster invisible to mortal and pagan eyes. It was a comfortable weight, as familiar as the weight of my wings had been.

* * *

By the time I was sober I was quite content with chilling in the wheelchair, arm across my face and trying to ignore everybody around me. Apollo had shoplifted me a shirt, but every time I tried asking him where my shirt had gone he just snickered and shook his head, but he'd gotten me a scarf too, which he also didn't explain. At least it seemed the deal had gone well, since I'd woken up with my sword pressing into my side. I'd almost freaked out, remembering how it had glinted in the dim, dungeon light as Poseidon had brought it down on my wings, but Apollo had experience with panic attacks and the doctor of all doctors had quickly managed to calm me down.

Second part of my plan was complete. To be honest I didn't think I would have made it this far, but the third part of my plan was ready to be put in play. To be honest it was the part I was looking forward to the least.

"Hey, is that the Charger?"

No way; I moved my arm and shot up in the wheelchair, my gaze scanning the license plate, the plate number as familiar to me as my own feathers -I mean, the feathers I used to have- "uh, no, I don't think so."

Unfortunately for me, Apollo knew more tells than the ones I have in Immortal Poker, and his gaze flickered over to the Charger, which was parked next to a familiar Impala which didn't help support my lie, "they won't think any less of you if they find out, Lokes."

Cassie might. Besides, I didn't want them to get caught in the crossfire when I finished my self-appointed mission.

But at the same time... I really did miss them all, even the Winchesters.

"I... don't tell them," I said, giving in in a way, I guess.

"I won't," Apollo promised, "that's something you'll have to tell them yourself when you feel up to it. Are you ready?"

"I'm not taking the wheelchair."

He didn't argue, simply helping me stand up, "and we don't have to explain your... walking issue unless you want to."

"Thank you," I took a deep breath, truelly touched by his concern. I probably didn't deserve it, "okay, I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

Apollo was as patient as ever as he helped me cross the parking lot, leaving the wheelchair behind. It took a bit of time, but we made it, and Apollo knocked on the motel door, his grip on my shoulder tightening when I tried to chicken out. It took a couple minutes but finally the door opened. I caught sight of the gun pointed at my face, then felt the flood of relief from the one holding it as it lowered.

"We were almost starting to worry," Cassandra cracked a tired grin. The circles under her eyes and the amount of relief I had felt from her seemed to tell me that she'd already been worrying. She looked me up and down and the relief halted and brought the worry back, "what happened?"

"Just irritated a couple pagans with that silver tongue of his," Apollo said dismissively, "he'll be better, just took a couple hits."

"Where were you?" Cassandra looked the pagan over, a lot less concerned for him and simply falling into professional Hunter mode, though I could feel her suspicion.

"We got each other out of the scuffle," I said before he could answer himself, "the pagans hadn't been too happy about the whole me eating Zeus thing, but we got out of there."

"Saved each other," Apollo agreed.

"Come in before you freeze," Cas accepted the story and beckoned us in, though I was certain neither Apollo nor I could freeze, Apollo especially, "Castiel was worried you wouldn't find us. He noticed Lucifer and suggested we all get out of there, since we've got nothing right now that can do much against him."

Apollo looked to me, eyes lighting up, probably expecting me to whip out my sword right then and there in a dramatic flourish. Ah! But the solution to our problems is right here, my darling little mortal!

"Lucifer? I thought he was in the cage," I said instead, slipping into a mask of fear as easily as one might slip on a sock. It seemed to work for she quickly moved to comfort me, promising that they would not let the older Archangel hurt me again. Apollo stared at me, barely keeping the irritation out of his eyes as he tried to figure out my angle.

"Hopefully we'll figure out a way to hurt him, then," Apollo said, eyes narrowing slightly before his face easily fell into a mask of its own.

"Hopefully," I nodded, casting a pleading look at the pagan when Cas wasn't looking.

For Lucifer to come looking for me... why hadn't he tracked me down? Instead he'd been -as far as what I have been told- lurking around. Searching for me possibly?

I delved into my vessel, pulling out of the driver seat to check the back seat in a metaphorical sense. My Grace ran over every inch of it but nothing seemed wrong with it, I've checked it before-

There.

I ran my Grace over the symbols etched into my rib cage then over the symbols burned into my muscles. I hadn't thought much about it the first time around it and I probably wouldn't have noticed it now either if I hadn't realized that these inns had been lacking from Leon's body. It seemed that I -before losing my memories- had been very thorough.

Thorough and paranoid.

It was right about then that Castiel himself flew in, landing right beside me, "I cannot find Gabriel- oh, good, you're already he-"

He froze and his eyes traveled upwards, towards empty space that should have been filled with golden feathers. His eyes turned to daggers as his eyes met mine and without a word he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the motel. He didn't stop at the door, marching forward until we were in the parking lot and he finally let me go, glancing at the door and using his Grace to make it slam shut. He looked me dead in the eyes.

"What the Hell did you do?"


	28. Chapter 28

(I don't own Supernatural. Oh my Chuck, I am so sorry about the rant last chapter! I write on the bus ride to school, bus ride to tech, bus ride back from tech and bus ride home (well not really that one, the kids always reach over and tap on it and I end up losing like 2,000 words) because I write on fanfiction and save it when I get home (I use my ipad) where I have wifi. I rant in the author's note a lot and then I go back and delete it, just leaving the 'I don't own Supernatural' part. And, looking back, I also forgot to delete the song lyrics after it. I am SO sorry! I forgot to delete it this time before I uploaded chapter 27 and I won't forget again! I had this chapter done, but fanfiction reloaded before I could post it and then I've been grounded this whole time (still grounded, big risk in getting this to you guys))

"I made a deal, Cassie," I sighed, running my hand through my hair, wishing to be anywhere but here, "my wings to clear my record and Apollo's record."

"Is that why you left?" his wings flared, "to go get your wings cut off?"

"Poseidon was going to have Apollo executed for something he didn't do! What was I supposed to do, Castiel? Leave him there to die?"

"That's exactly what you should have done!" Castiel hissed, lifting his wings up and spreading them open a bit, a subconscious attempt to look bigger, "without your wings you're..."

"I'm what, Castiel?" I bared my teeth at him, "not Gabriel? Not good enough? Oh, yeah, bad enough Gabriel lost his memories, at least he had his wings, but oh no! Now he doesn't have even those and he's fucking useless!?"

His wings slumped, "the life of a pagan was not worth the price of your wings, Gabriel. You're not at full strength and if Lucifer finds you, it is likely he will kill you again... and without your wings you're..."

"Helpless?"

"Unable to escape," Castiel said instead, "so I do not see why you would choose the well being of a pagan over your own life. It was the stupidest decision I've ever had the misfortune to see the results of and I have made a lot of stupid decisions in my life, not to mention how much time I've spent around the Winchesters."

"Oh, really? You're telling me you wouldn't do such a thing for the Winchesters?" I motioned towards the motel room and noticed the curtain fall shut, a glimpse of a leather jacket disappearing from view.

Castiel's nostrils flared and his wings rose up higher and pulled in closer. I had hit a soft spot but I was like a hound honing in on a treed coon and I showed no mercy in my attack.

"How is Apollo any different?"

But it seemed it was not a coon that I had cornered, it was something more akin to a bobcat.

"He's a pagan!" Castiel spat, using the word like it was poison, "you can't trust a pagan, Gabriel! The very moment his own life is in danger he'll give you up in an instant but you're too busy being the selfish pagan side of yourself to even notice that he's using you and when he doesn't need you anymore he's going to leave you for dead! I wouldn't be surprised if he simply handed you over to Lucifer himself! Pagans don't change, Gabriel, and pagans don't care! And now, when Lucifer comes to destroy everything, you'll be as helpless as a plucked chicken! You have no memories, no powers and now? No wings. That pagan will be the death of you! You know what that everything Lucifer is going to destroy includes? Literally everything our Father has ever created! That includes you, that includes the pagans, and-" his eyes glinted and he went right for the throat, "-that includes the Maples."

I found myself doing the same jaw thing the oldest Winchester does when irritated and just barely kept the windshields of nearby cars from exploding in response to my turmoil. This was information that I should have realized but now that it had been shoved right in my face?

I ran my hands over my face in defeat, my plan crumbling around me. New one, I need a new one.

I'll simply have to knock Lucifer off the playing board, a pawn, no a queen on the other team. An enemy to be neutralized.

Lucifer was in my way.

Nothing will get in my way to my plan's success. I just needed to... tinker with it. Yes, just need to tinker wi-

The CDs.

Tinker with the CDs? No! I needed to watch them. Castiel was right, I was weak and Lucifer could crush me like a bug. But if he was right about that, was he right about Apollo? No, he couldn't be, Apollo wouldn't- he couldn't... I need to think, I need to think things over.

The plan. I needed to focus on the plan. I need to think. Need to rewrite it from scratch, but I could still implement steps one, two, three.

"Is it true?" my brother broke the silence, "what I've heard in passing from the pagans?"

I needed to implement the most important step, made even more urgent and important now that Lucifer was on the other side of the playing field.

"Is it true that you and that- that pagan-" he spat the word 'pagan' like it was bitter on his tongue, "are... are..." -it seemed this little bobcat was having trouble running it off his sharp tongue, "... is it true that you and the pagan have..."

Time to implement the most painful step of all.

"Yes," I said, the lie flowing off my silver tongue as easily as the wind may rustle the leaves of a tree though with all the pain as running a hand swiftly across sandpaper, "it's true."

He took one deep shuddering breath and pulled in his wings. I wanted him to yell, to hate me, he needed to hate me with every fiber in his being. Please, Cassie, please. I knew it would hurt worse than losing my wings but losing my little brother would be so much worse and he needed to hate me. Please, Cassie, please, tell me you hate me. I'm dead to you. Never come back. Something other than this terrible silence, this fear that coiled in my gut at the idea of you getting hurt because of me. Anything was better than this silence. Anything was better than you being in the crossfire.

Please.

His stare burned, his hands clenched in fists and his wings quivered, furious, "why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying, Cas."

He looked me up and down before stepping forward. I flinched beside myself and he froze before reaching forward, slower in his movements this time. He pulled at the scarf around my neck as if looking for something and I felt him brush his fingers against my neck before he readjusted the scarf and took a step back, "no, no," -did his voice just crack just now?- "no, you're lying, you are, I know you're lying. YOU'RE LYING!"

I said nothing when he looked to me.

"Please, Gabriel," he pleaded, "please, tell me the truth."

"I already have, brother," I said calmly, not backing down. Come on, Cassie, please, tell me you hate me, let me know you'll be safe. Drive the stake into my chest.

"You have to be lying," Castiel said, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

I braced myself and drove the stake into my own heart for him, letting loose my silver tongue and embracing the mask of a seasoned trickster; my mouth curled into a malicious grin that didn't reach my tired eyes, "what's wrong, Cas? Jealous that big bro's been getting some and you're barely past the eye-fucking stage with your mortal whore?"

I'm surprised he didn't break my jaw with the amount of power he put behind his fist when he decked me. I fell against the guardrail behind me, cringing as my hand flew up to my jaw. It wasn't the first time my jaw has been dislocated, but it was the first time it hurt so damn much.

"Don't talk about Dean that way!" Cassie fumed, wings raising in a subconscious attempt at making himself look bigger.

I snapped my jaw back into place, wincing as a sharp pain ran through my back, but once I felt my vessel's jaw connect back into place the pain faded a bit, though it still lingered, "really? Then how did you know which one I was talking about?"

Come on, Cassie, drive the stake the rest of the way. I hate you, Gabriel. Words so simple to say, so painful to hear, but words I needed to hear. Please, Cassie, please.

His wings beat the air, "if you talk about them like that again I'll-"

"You'll what!?" I snapped, "continue to talk about my friend like he's dirt!? Two can play at that game, Castiel! I bet you probably wish you were fucking both of them!"

He was fuming, but he took a deep breath and held it for a couple minutes before letting it go. Cas was even slower at pulling in his ruffled wings, "I... I'm just trying to help you, Gabriel, but you make it so hard sometimes! Don't talk about the Winchesters that way or I will leave you to Lucifer!"

I laughed before rubbing my sore jaw, wondering why it wasn't entirely better already. I lowered myself the rest of the way to the ground; I could tell my brother didn't entirely mean his words, by the way his wings trembled. He may know I was near powerless, but Michael had installed the fear of archangels in the angels to keep them in line, just as I had had the fear of the Darkness installed in me so that I would obey Father and not wander. My brother was all talk, much fear, and he couldn't help it. Despite the part of me committed to sticking to the plan, I found myself speaking, "Castiel... it is not my own fate that I worry for."

He seemed greatly confused and maybe even a bit hesitant, but he slowly eased himself into a sitting position across from me.

The sun joyfully warmed the pavement beneath us, only a few fluffy white clouds floating overhead in a sky as clear and blue as the eyes of my brother's vessel. Birds sang and the noise of life went on. The world was uncaring of the argument between the two brothers that sat on its surface, the sky did not care, nobody cared. With or without us, the world moved on with its cheerful day. A storm would have been a better match for the turmoil I saw in my brother's eyes.

He grabbed my fidgeting hands -have they been fidgeting this whole time? Father, I hope not- and met my gaze, looking close to tears, "... I didn't mean to anger you, Gabriel... I... you may not have your wings for me to notice how you feel but you... you've always lashed out with words when you're..."

He took a deep breath, his grip on my hands tightening before loosening but I was unable to find words of my own and he continued uninterrupted.

"You're the first of my older siblings that I have been on good terms with in so, so long, " he sniffed and damn, there he went pulling off puppy eyes in a grown ass vessel, "maybe this whole thing is God's way of telling us that we're going to be a family again- don't give me that look! We're going to be a family again! Every single one of us! We have to be! ... I just want to go home and have it be... home. I want a family again and maybe it's supposed to start with us. Please, Gabriel? Can we be siblings again? Can we be family?"

"You're getting all sappy on me," I said, my grin falling. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go, he was supposed to hate me! I opened my mouth to let out a stinging remark, to show my brother that I couldn't be helped as easily as some orphan on the street and that, no, life wasn't as simple as 'let's be family again'... but nothing came out of my mouth but- "I... want to be family again too, Cassie. I.. I just want to go home."

Home. I don't even remember anything good about home, but I knew that once it had been home, had felt like home, and I missed it even more than I missed my wings. I've been gone from it for so long, but I hadn't left on the best of terms with it or the rest of my family, I knew that for sure. But I wanted nothing more than to be there one last time.

Cassie managed a grin at that, a small one, but a grin nonetheless before it faltered, "p-promise me you're not going to do anything stupid, not when we're so close to being brothers again."

The whole reason I wanted him out of the way was because my plan was, in a way, the stupidest thing I have ever and will ever do, and if I don't pull it off and Castiel is suspected as an accomplice... "I.. promise, Cas."

"No!" his grip on my hands tightened, "you have to really promise, Gabriel! Don't lie to me! Promise me!"

"Okay! I... I promise, Castiel."

His eyes searched my face for any signs that I was lying to him, but it seemed he found none.

I flinched when he moved forward, but he was only hugging me, wrapping his wings all the way around us as he cried into my shoulder; he wrapped his arms around my arm instead of around me, as if sensing that it would have most likely have been painful for me if he had. I... wasn't too sure what to do, since I didn't usually find myself in a situation where I should probably be comforting somebody. Finally, I simply found myself returning the hug, which seemed to make him feel a little better. It felt... odd.. not to have wings of my own to return the hug with as well.

"I'm... sorry that I punched you."

"...I deserved it."

(Sorry, it's short, there was more, but I don't have enough time, I'll get the rest to you as the next chapter ASAP)


	29. Chapter 29

(I don't own Supernatural. Still grounded, but here.)

The door to one of the motel rooms slammed open, which made me jump about a foot in the air, so we both fell over. We got untangled quickly, and Castiel helped me to my feet.

"We've got a lead!" Sera was the first out the door, not even seeming to care that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, "wanna come gank a trickster? It's gonna be a fun stake-out!"

"Naw, I've had a hell of a week," I managed a small grin, remembering how mind-numbingly boring the last stake-out I had been on had been, "think I'm gonna hang here for tonight."

"Great, one thing that might make it easier is staying on his ass, apparently," Dean walked out of the motel, duffel on his shoulder, "Cas, you coming?"

"Yes, I will come," Cas nodded.

"Cool, looks like we get to hang out," Apollo yelled from within the room. I could see him lounging on his back on the table inside the room, casting me a grin from where I could see him through the doorway.

"I'm staying here," Castiel said, changing his mind apparently, following me into the motel room. He plopped down on one of the beds, expression daring anybody to try and move him.

"Really?" Dean frowned before shrugging, "alright, tehn. Don't trash the place, you three, and no parties."

"Who would we invite?" Apollo snorted, rolling his eyes, though it looked a little weird since he was upside down.

"Says the Olympian with about a million relatives," Dean gave us what I can only describe as the 'Dad look.'

"We won't trash the place and we won't have a party," I promised, "though I cannot promise that we won't order pizza."

Dean rolled his eyes and followed everyone out, giving us one more look before finally closing the door, leaving us three immortals to our own devices.

Castiel's eyes darted to Apollo as soon as the Hunters were gone, as if waiting for the pagan to do anything, anything at all, that may be out of line.

Apollo grinned back at him, but it didn't reach his narrowed eyes, as if he was waiting for the very moment that the angel dared say anything.

I shifted uneasily, feeling the tension in the room. A part of me crowed for a fight, but I bit it down and cleared my throat, gaining their attention, "how about we play a game?"

* * *

"Ummmm," Apollo hummed from where he laid on the table, head hanging back over the side, "Sherlock Holmes, Michael Weston, and Aphrodite."

"Aphrodite's gotta go," I stared at the ceiling, in a similar position only on one of the beds instead of the table. Cassie mimicked my position on the other bed, wings trailing over the sides of the bed as he stared in wonder at everything being upside down.

Apollo gave a gasp at my response, "dude, but it's Aphrodite!"

"Fine, which Sherlock is it?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I've always pictured the one in the books as a chubbish man."

"Lokes, I'm pretty sure the one in the books wasn't a chubbish man. I've read them before, he's not fat!"

"Which one?"

"Fine. Tv one."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"The one with... Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Free-"

"Ah.. I would... kill Aphrodite."

"Dude, still?"

"Kill Aphrodite, kiss Weston, marry Sherlock."

"You would not get along with Sherlock Holmes," Apollo huffed, "um, kill Sherlock-"

"John's gonna kill you."

"Shut up. Kill Sherlock, kiss Weston, marry Aphrodite."

"She'd still cheat on you with Ares."

"Fine, kill Sherlock, kiss Aphrodite, marry Weston."

"Cause that's gonna be a happy marriage."

"I think it's your brother's turn now," Apollo said sharply, annoyed by my logic.

"I do not see the point of this game."

"Don't be a killjoy," Apollo whined.

Cassie paused to glare at the pagan before answering, "kill Aphrodite, kiss Weston, marry Sherlock."

"Are you just copying what Lokes said?"

"...No... and his name is Gabriel, not Lokes."

"Whatever," the pagan rolled his eyes, "alright, Castiel, your turn to choose."

"Why?"

"Just pick three people, Casssie, doesn't matter who," I advised, "first three to pop into your mind, if you want."

"I still do not see the point of this so-called 'Kiss, Marry, Kill' game."

"Caaaaaassssssiiiiiieeeeee," I whined, "it's only the one game that is in all the little teen pop magazines! Besides, it's fun!"

"You know," Apollo piped up from the table, "I'm actually playing the big boy version of the game, so when I say kiss I mean-"

"Shush it, Sunchild."

"Um..." Cassie finally seemed to be making up his mind, "Ares... Dr. Sexy... and Dean."

"Are those the only names you know, brother?" I teased, grinning.

"Shut up, Gabriel."

"Easy peasy," I grinned instead, "kill Ares, kiss Dr. Sexy, marry Dean."

"Kill Ares, kiss Dean, marry Dr. Sexy," Apollo answered without pause.

We both turned to stare at Castiel.

"Kill Ares, kiss Dr. Sexy..." -his face flushed bright red- "marry Dean."

I gave a wolf whistle, "whoo! Put a ring on that finger, baby bro!"

"I'm only going along with the rules of the game!" he protested.

I sat up, pausing as the world spun as my vessel's blood surged away from the head, "I've got it. My OTP will be married tonight. Apollo, you can be the priest dude."

"But I'm not a Christian."

"Fine! I'll marry them!" I said, glad for the distraction that playing wedding planner would be, anything to take my mind off the anxiousness pooling under my skin, still surging for a fight, any fight, "by the power vested in awesome me, Dean and Castiel shall be married! Now KEEZ!"

"Dean and I share a profound bond-"

"Profound!" I crowed in victory.

"No! As in we're just friends!"

"Right," I gave my brother a large, goofy grin.

"I'm serious!"

"MY TURN!" I dropped it, flopping back onto my back on the bed, only wincing a little bit, "Edward Cullen, Madonna, or a hamster?"

"A hamster?" Apollo snickered, "I thought it was only horses for you, Lokes."

"THAT MYTH IS FALSE!" I glared before letting the anger fall, "I would kill Edward, kiss the hamster, and marry Madonna."

Apollo snickered.

"I'm playing the kiss version, Apollo, not the adult version."

"Well guess which one I'm playing?" he snickered before answering, "I would kill the hamster, kiss Madonna, and marry Edward."

"Haha."

"But I could still kill him in his sleep," Apollo pointed out.

"I'm gonna go with that," Cassie agreed.

"Yeah, my turn again, then-" Apollo perked up, "Brian Finch from Limitless, Justin Bieber, or Lokes."

"Come on, Sunchild, why you gotta put me in the same sentence as Justin Bieber?"

"What's wrong with Justin Bieber?" Cassie turned his head towards me, a sense of confusion lingering around him, "do you not like beavers named Justin?"

I laughed so hard I fell off the bed and had to scramble back up onto it, "no, Justin Bieber, human. Jerk-human, spits on his fans, that guy."

"Oh."

"I would kill Justin Bieber and marry Brian Finch and... I would kiss myself of course," I said, mood dimming slightly as I thought of that poor Gabe I met in the other dimension.

Apollo fell off the table, though even landing on the floor failed to cease his laughter. Finally he calmed down and answered, "I would kill Justin Bieber, kiss Brian Finch, and marry you. I'll be your second husband."

"What happened to my first one?"

"Nothing you can prove."

Cassie had his eyes narrowed at Apollo but once he realized the two giggling pagans in the room had their focus on him he paused, looking like he was going to break a brain gear trying to figure out what to do, "I would... um... Can I pass? I don't want to marry or kiss the Justin beaver and I don't want to kill Gabriel."

"Fine, fine, your turn, then, Cassie."

"...Can we play something else?"

"Immortal Poker?" Apollo offered."

"No," I all but snapped.

"Okay, fine, what else can we do?"

I sat up, "well... we can always just see what happens when I snap my fingers."

"You'd just end up snapping like some dork in a musical," Apollo rolled his eyes, "you don't remember how to use your powers, remember?"

"How hard can it be to sneak into other dimensions?" I wondered aloud. Apollo was the pagan of healing; if we could get into that dimension I had been thrown into, maybe he could fix that dimension's Gabriel.

"Do you not remember what happened to you last time?"

"Well... how about time travel?"

Castiel shot bolt upright in the bed he was laying on, "you have enough Grace to do that and have enough left over to get back... I could tell you how to do it."

Guess I wasn't the only bored angel in the room.

* * *

"This had better be the right one, Lokes!" Apollo huffed as he pulled himself out of the bush I had landed us in.

"Cars, there's cars!" I crowed, "that means running water! And good old color TV!"

"I am never teaching you anything ever again," Cas glared, and I reached over to help him detangle his wings from the bushes.

A passerby gave me an odd look, and I glared right at him, "what you looking at!? Never seen a man in a dress before!?"

His face flushed and he rushed off.

I pulled up on the dress, grumbling, "damn patriarchy."

"You look like a man attempting a rather bad attempt at drag. That dress doesn't even work with your hair anymore," Apollo rolled his eyes.

"If you think I'm throwing my brand spanking new medieval, hand-stitched dress gifted to me by the most powerful wizard in existence, then you have another thing coming, buddy. I'm going to be turning into Crow once a week just to wear this," I said, shifting to prove it, "see?"

"You're not going to-" Cas began, sounding worried.

"-ONE TIME THING!" I snapped at him, "and will you just drop it already!? I did what I had to do!"

"A bunch of mediaeval royals and nobles and you flashed them all, not to mention the fact that before even that you were causing trouble!"

"I'll show you magic," Cas piped up in a horrible mockery of my voice as Crow before dropping the mockery, "I do not see what was so magical about displaying parts of the human anatomy that usually do not get shown."

"I TOLD YOU TO DROP IT!"

"Oh, I bet that's what you told Merlin, huh? Right after you got done snogging in the corridor," Apollo sneered.

"Oh, like you're one to talk, Mr. I-Swooned-When-I-Met-Lancelot. And snog? Really? What are you, British?"

"At least I didn't almost get the most powerful warlock in history executed! And I didn't swoon over Lancelot!"

"Key word almost!"

"It was quite an unusual attempt, but Gabriel's idea of flashing the court did work," Cas pointed out.

"See? As far as they're concerned, I enchanted Merlin with a spell, was the actual sorcerer, and mocked them all before leaving," I said, falling into my vessel's original form, my usual, male, form.

We were still arguing by the time we found the motel, but we went deadthly silent upon entering the motel, greeted by the sight of Sera, sitting at the table slurping coffee from a mug.

We had not gone silent fast enough for her to not hear the tail end of our argument as we walked in.

"So..." she took a sip of her coffee, "Gabe fucked a bird?"

I gave her a dirty look, "wasn't a bird."

"Isn't Merlin the name of a type of bird?"

"The wizard," Apollo clarified with a scowl.

"And we didn't do anything!" I protested, "really!"

"Except eat each other's faces!" Apollo growled, "and I'm pretty sure you did do more than that."

"DROP IT!"

"Fun night, then?" Sera smirked.

"Nights," Apollo corrected, glaring at Cas, "Castiel decided trying to teach Lokes how to time travel was a good idea-" -his glare shifted to me- "-except he ended up taking us all the way back to medieval times, got it on with the most powerful warlock in history-"

"-But I expected him to be old, I didn't expect him to be in his early twenties and phew, did he look-"

Apollo interrupted me, "-accidentally almost had Merlin executed for magic, claimed to be a sorcerer that had enchanted said warlock, flashed the entire royal court of Camelot, and we spent the next week after all of that getting dragged through time while Lokes tried to figure out how to actually get us back here!"

"Oh, it was fun!" I yelled at him.

"I almost got fed to lions when you dropped us into the time when Christians were being prosecuted!"

"Well, if they knew you were Apollo they wouldn't have thought you were a Christian, for sure. Besides, it gave us the chance to free all the Christians they had trapped, so win-win!"

"Castiel almost got drafted into World War One! Not to mention everything else we had to go to on our back to this time! What part of anything that happened seemed like fun to you!?"

"All of it! Especially when you-"

"Freaking tricksters," Apollo growled, shoving past me and effectively cutting me off, "thank the gods we're finally back to the time we're supposed to be. I am never going time traveling with you again."

"Oh, just wait until next time we have a night off," I grinned, "how does the Victorian era sound to you all? Ooh! Or maybe we can-"

"NO!" Apollo and Cas both shouted in unison.

Castiel was the first to compose himself, clearing his throat, "I mean, perhaps you- uh, we- shouldn't try time traveling again... at all."

"Like, never again," Apollo clarified "if we could, we would go back in time and stop Castiel from ever teaching you how to time travel in the first place."

Castiel waited a moment before saying what he's probably been waiting to say since we stepped in, "where's Dean?"

"Your boyfriend is with everybody else, still going after the trickster," Sera frowned.

"Why aren't you with them?" I asked, ignoring Cas as he grumbled something about Dean not being his boyfriend.

"Trickster almost took my head off. Cas -our Cas, Cassandra- freaked out and made me go home. She should have sent herself home, seeing how the trickster almost..." Sera trailed off as she noticed the expression on my face.

I froze, all mirth gone, "you almost got hurt?"

"Oh, don't go all Cassandra on me, Gabe."

"Oh, I know exactly who's going to get hurt," I said, "and its not going to be you **or** Cassandra."

"Gabe! Wait!" Sera shouted, making me jump, having been just about to open the door.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" I looked her up and down, but found no visible injuries, though I quickly sent a strand of Grace out to her to check for any nonvisible injuries and found none.

"Why are you wearing a dress?"


	30. Chapter 30

(I don't own Supernatural. I also don't own the show Merlin, which was mentioned in the last chapter.)

 **Earth was very exciting.**

 **It almost took all the homesickness and guilt away. Almost.**

 **I fluttered around, happy, only stopping when I noticed a woman who seemed to be struggling with a bottle. Hoping to help, I landed a bit of ways away, hurrying over to her, pleased to be in my new vessel.**

 **I love humans. I loved helping even more.**

 **She paused when she saw me, her eyes lighting up like a fox who had caught a mouse; her smile seemed very nice though, and all the humans I had met so far had been very nice to me, so I gave her a huge happy grin. Her smile grew, and when she turned towards me the strange looking scarves that trailed out from under her dress seemed to twitch like the end of a cat's tail. There seemed to be nine of them, and now that my brain had made the connection, they looked very much like fox tails. Humans and their odd fashions!**

 **"Oh, young man," she said, for she seemed a tad old for a human, as if she could be somebody's nice grandmother, "my old limbs get weaker everyday. Could you please assist me in opening this bottle here?"**

 **The bottle in question was small, looking like a small vial, with a snug cork in the top and a leather cord wrapped around the vial that seemed to make it so the user could wear the vial around their neck.**

 **"I am always glad to help," I assured her, gentle with the bottle as I turned it in my hands. Yes, it should be no problem at all to open the vial that was about the length and width of my vessel's pinkie. She was muttering something under her breath, a grin on her features as I grabbed ahold of the cork and pulled.**

 **...**

I gasped, shooting upright. Apollo just barely missed getting an accidental headbutt. It had been so long since Apollo had tinkered with the lock that I had forgotten what it was like.

"Almost there?" Apollo glanced to the driver seat, and my eyes followed once I realized we were in the Charger.

Sera did not taker her eyes off the road to answer, but Castiel seemed unable to put his eyes on the road since his gaze was focused on the two pagans -Apollo and I- in the backseat, "I'll tell you when we get there."

"Try again," I told Apollo, cringing as I settled back down, "we need something useful."

"Yeah, well, did you he to bring the armor?" Apollo huffed, referring to the golden armor I was wearing that I had gotten during an encounter with a dragon that seemed like ages ago, "it's digging into me."

"If the Trickster tries to stake me, well, I don't feel like getting staked. At least I left the sword in my bag at the motel."

"Speaking of that armor," Sera spoke up, "next time we leave a model, make sure you're there to grab your own bag, will ya? It felt like you had a rock collection in there. But if we ever get to go to comic-con, you have got to wear that armor."

"Got it," I smirked, "well, Apolo? Find something useful."

...

 **I screamed and cried and begged to be let free. The vial was always cramped, and every time the kitsune, a nine-tailed fox trickster, sapped my strength it hurt horribly. I was never strong enough to break free, my power always being sapped, stolen from me for her use.**

 **I cried for my family, cried to be saved, but nobody ever came to save me.**

 **...**

Apollo was shaking his hand, wincing. My Grace clung to Castiel's own, seeking comfort from my brother. Despite the racing of my vessel's heart, I demanded that Apollo try again. If Cassandra was in danger, her and the Winchesters...

...

 **The kitsune, Lokare, seemed surprised by the sword in her gut. Even with all the power she had, boosted by her supply of my own power, she had never expected that death would come in the shape of a one-eyed bearded man -immortal, did she call him?- shoving his sword through her back as she decimated his army. She let out a gurgle as she choked on her own blood, and then he had withdrawn his sword from her body. Her tails, more than nine after the several centuries since I had been trapped, twitched before going still as she dropped to the ground.**

 **The leather cord around her neck must have caught his eye, for he pulled the necklace off her neck. I was silent as I watched him stare at me as the vial swung. To him, all he saw was the glowing gold that filled the bottle.**

 **I had been silent for centuries, and I did not make a sound even then. What was the point when I could not be heard?**

 **"What is it, AllFather?" one of his soldiers asked him, a look of relief on his face at the fact that their opponent was dead.**

 **Instead of replying, the one-eyed man rolled his eyes and tossed the vial to the soldier, "you know how tricksters are. Probably some sort of trophy or maybe the shiny quality of it caught her eye. If it was given as a courting gift, there may be another trickster. Keep your guard up-"**

 **The vial proved too small for the berserker's hands, and it slipped through his fingers. I didn't have enough strength to cry out as the vial bounced off a rock.**

 **But then a sense of excitement surged through me. The rock had left a small crack in the vial, one through which I painstakingly clawed through. I gasped as my lungs dragged air into my vessel's lungs, not that I needed air, and I let out a cry full of so much relief it sounded like an animal's.**

 **"What are you!?" AllFather, as he had been called, brandished a sword at me, "what trickery is this!?"**

 **Not all of me had managed to escape. A part of me hadn't gotten through the crack, ripping off as I had squeezed through the crack. I used what was left of my Grace to rip into the kitsune's essence. As I ripped a piece from the trickster's essence to patch the hole in my own, a feeling of satisfaction replaced the emptiness at the sound of her silent screams.**

 **My lips curled into a smirk, darkness melding into my Grace. My face shifted into a charming grin as I bowed to AllFather, "you have saved me from Lokare's trap, m'lord! To who do I owe my life?"**

 **"I am Odin, king of Asgard," he seemed pleased by my actions of gratitude, "to who do I speak?"**

 **Loki was a common name, "I go by Loki, my majesty. My name is Loki."**

 **"What are you, Loki?"**

 **My Grace swirled, my full power returned to me so quickly it made me giddy.**

 **The new trickster half of me rejoiced, power once denied to me racing through me, boosted by the trickster power, surged by the exhilarating glee of being free! It longed for blood, the need to kill pounding in my heart.**

 **My homesickness was gone. Who needed them!? The thought raced through my power-high mind. They had never come for me, so I would never return to them! I needed no home! No one to pity me!**

 **As far as I was concerned, Gabriel was dead. The little angel who wished to help was gone; oh, I would help alright. I would kill the scourge of evil! Those with evil in their hearts will no longer be offered a chance of salvation! My mind raced with ideas! Already, the memory of a man the kitsune had passed in the street, one who had been yelling abuse at a dog, rose into mind.**

 **My smirk curved into a grin; oh, yes, just like Gabriel, the new Gabriel would show the man the errors of his ways. But no, this new Gabriel wouldn't be so pitifully kind! Yes, a huge ravenous beast ripping out the man's throat would be a wonderful taste of irony, justice so well deserved!**

 **"I asked you," Odin said, "what are you, Loki?"**

 **I grinned a wicked grin, "I am a god, your majesty."**

 **...**

I stated at the ceiling of the Charger. A grin grew on my face; it started as a maniacal giggle, but soon grew into a dark cackle.

Having been kept at bay for so long, the part of me that made me a trickster rejoiced as my Grace welcomed it back to me with open arms, pleased to finally be complete.

I understand now, why the boy I had killed, the drunk boy who I had beat to death, had to die. I had my own way of dealing justice. My Grace at been to weak, at the time when I killed the boy, to keep the taint of my trickster half, my Loki side, away. I was Gabriel, I was Loki, and one could not manage without the other. It was the Loki part of me that thirsted for blood, lived for the feeling of justice and mischief. For far too long I had been denied from dealing justice, but now that I was complete I was on my way to being the archangel I had been before death.

I was Loki, Norse god of lies and trickery. How lovely was the irony that it was today, April 1st, the day of mischief, that I was finally Loki once more.

The trickster who had dared threaten what was mine would bow to me. For far too long the tricksters have lacked their king, and I would reign them back in without mercy. The trickster would bow to my will, one way or another, and then he would die, a warning to his kin that their king was back and that the mortals under his protection were off limits.

And soon, one day, I will go through with my plan. Now that I was complete, I would not hesitate to deal the justice so long denied. My Father will die at my hands.

In my chest, the heart of a trickster beat on.


	31. Chapter 31

(I don't own Supernatural.)

It must have been quite the sight, seeing a dude in a dress with golden armor overtop of it come storming in through the doors he'd just imploded into the room. Good thing I hadn't paused to change out of the dress, though, because the Winchesters and Cassandra had their backs to a pole, hands all tied together behind them with what looked suspiciously like a piece of giant twizzler. Upon closer inspection, the pole wasn't a pole at all but, in fact, a giant candy cane.

I'll have to give whoever this trickster is a point in creativity.

Or, I realized as my eyes fell on the three who weren't tied up at the moment, I had better make it 'tricksters' instead of the singular 'trickster.'

Seeing the Hunters tied up only made me angrier, and without even thinking I looked at one of the tricksters and snapped. He took the full force of my rage and exploded into a fine, red mist. A cruel smile flickered onto my face.

"Lord Loki!" the remaining two tricksters dropped to their knees, looking like they were trying to phase trough the ground with how much they were groveling. One was female, but the other was male... at least I think. You never know.

At least, right now, one was male and the other was female. The one I had just turned into haze had been male, at least from what I had seen.

"Did you have to make a dramatic entr- oh, you found them," Apollo skidded to a graceful stop beside me.

"And Lord Apollo!" if anything they started groveling even more.

"Lord Loki, whose tongue is sharper than any blade!" the female cried, "have mercy on us for intruding on your territory!"

"And Lord Apollo, Greek god of the sun, whose life-giving light I can only pray to bask in!" the male cried, "please forgive us!"

"Oh, shut up," I scowled, "flattery will get you nowhere."

"Oh, I'm feeling a little something, keep going," Apollo urged, "tell me more about my life-giving glory."

"We offer you tribute!" the female pleaded, motioning towards the Hunters. Dean had an odd look going on with his face and seemed to be shaking, but the gag covering his mouth kept me from hearing whatever he was trying to say, though Sam seemed to be in a similar state. Cassandra just rolled her eyes when our gazes met.

"Lord Apollo, your very voice could make even the most aromantic creature in any world swoon!"

"Ew," I said, giving the trickster a disdainful glance, "will you shut up?"

"Keep going," Apollo urged, "I am great aren't I? I think your king is feeling a bit left out, though."

"Lord Loki-"

"He was kidding!" I growled; less talking, more killing! "What is this nonsense about a tribute!?"

"We have captured these Hunters for you! We had heard of your glorious return, our patron god, more cunning than any other be he! We have summoned you, and you have forever honored us with your presence!"

Now that I looked, it did look like some sort of ritual had been going on. There was an odd snake looking symbol in the middle of a circle, the pole the Hunters were tied to smack dab in the middle.

"We had another, but it escaped! If you would honor us with the opportunity to go recapture the escaped Hunter, we would be able to complete-"

"The stars are not in position for this tribute," I straightened my posture, my skin itching with cold fury.

"What?" the two gaped at me.

"The stars," Apollo agreed, shaking his head sadly, "can't do it. Not today."

"The stars," the female hissed, casting a glare at her companion, "you idiot! This was supposed to be perfect!"

"It didn't say anything about stars!"

" **SILENCE!** " my true voice rang through the room, the windows shattering.

The tricksters went absolutely silent.

I stared at them with a look of cold indifference, "those Hunters are mine. Why should I spare the lives of a couple of thieves?"

The blood drained from their faces, replaced by pure terror.

"Well? Why should I let either of you live?" I cocked an eyebrow, my voice cold and merciless, "prove yourselves to me."

Without a moment's hesitation, in one half of a second the male raised his hand, a discarded stake flying into his hand. In the next half of the second, he had plunged the stake into the trickster beside him. Her mouth gaped, her eyes bulged, and then he was shoving her body to the floor. Not a single emotion of regret flickered over his face as he bowed, presenting the murder weapon to me, "I offer you tribute, Lord Loki."

A feeling of impressed satisfaction bloomed in my chest, and I let myself gain a small grin at his actions, "what is your name, trickster?"

"I go by Mégaira."

"Greek?" Apollo questioned, sounding impressed.

"I have been around for a very long time, my lord," the trickster said, "my father, himself, was in the army of the great Achilles."

Apollo's expression soured, "ah, Achilles. I remember when he died. The battle of Troy was a nasty business."

Cas, my Cas, let out an impatient noise through the cloth muffling her.

"Rise, Mégaira," I commanded, "untie the Hunters."

He glanced back and snapped. The twizzler, candy cane, and gags disappeared.

"About time," Dean looked like he was trying to be serious, but he took one look at me and started into a laughing fit which Sam soon joined him in.

Mégaira glared at them, grumbling, "they dare show such blatant disrespect to my patron god?"

"Mégaira," I said, and his gaze instantly snapped to me before lowering as if he was afraid to meet my eyes, "you will spread the word that those who mess with what is mine shall feel the full wrath of Loki."

He nodded quickly, "there will be no trickster that will not know, I swear on my life."

And with a snap of his fingers he was gone.

"You-" Dean wheezed with laughter, "you're wearing- why are you wearing a dress!?"

My eyes narrowed as I realized that nothing had been wrong when he and Sam were shaking; the jerks were laughing at me, but I didn't have the time to show them the mistakes of their actions, "seeing as I just saved your lives, why would my matter of attire concern you?"

Cassandra wasn't laughing as she grabbed her guns, "doesn't go with your hair."

I shifted, having to shove a strand of my now long hair behind my ear, "how's that, then?"

Sam tripped, making an odd sound. Dean tripped over Sam. I watched them fall into an ungrateful heap with a look of bored disinterest.

"Armor doesn't really fit you now," Cassandra said, not as impressed by my trick, "when did you learn to shapeshift?"

"I've been practicing."

"Why did you have to make him leave?" Apollo frowned, snapping his fingers and sending my armor back to my bag that was at the motel for me, "I was enjoying Mégaira's praises."

"Oh, glorious Apollo!" I said sarcastically, pretending to swoon. He caught me, giving me an annoyed look, "oh, whatever would we do without his singing?"

"There was a time when people from all over would travel hundreds of miles just to tell me how awesome me and my talents are you know," Apollo said, picking me up bride style.

"Hey! Put me down!" I scowled, "Apollo!"

"Sure thing, once you tell me how awesome I am."

I squirmed, but I wasn't going anywhere fast apparently, "never!"

"Pagans," Castiel muttered as he landed in the room, putting Sera down before casting an annoyed glance at Apollo, "put my brother down, pagan."

"Sure, if you use my name, angel."

"Oh, you sound just like a song bird," I cooed, "a pretty, little songbird."

Apollo stared at me for a moment before putting me down, "acceptable."

I smoothed out my dress and stepped out of reach, raising my hand, "a songbird that's getting strangled by a cat."

"You little-"

I let out a cackle and snapped my fingers just as he grabbed me.

Apollo squeaked, quickly trying to drop me as I hissed at him, "Lokes! You know I hate snakes!"

I stuck my little tongue at him. With my snake vision, he was the brightest thing in the room and I curled right around his arm despite his attempts to shake my now python self off of him.

"Off! Off, off, off, off, off!"

I started crawling up his arm; wonder how badly he would start to panic if I became a bigger snake, like Python, the one who he had killed for pursuing his mother. Mostly, though, I only had a single thought running through my mind as my cold-blooded self crawled up his arm; he was really, really warm.

"Gabe!" Cassandra scolded.

I shifted back into Crow, standing there holding his arm for a moment before I let go of his arm, "you were really warm."

"Snakes always make a beeline right for me," he scowled, rubbing his arm, "it's not entirely your fault... just no more snakes?"

"Deal."

"Since when are you a chick?" Sam questioned, once he had gotten his huge moose self back into a standing position.

I turned into a baby chicken and let out a string of squeaks -or whatever sound chicks make, I'm not sure how else I would describe them- and walked around flapping the little, poor excuse of wings that baby chickens have.

"You know what I mean," Sam scooped little baby chicken me up, obviously having not learned from Apollo's mistake.

"He's gonna change again-" Apollo began to warn the Winchester.

Sam, unlike Apollo, fell under the sudden weight change, not prepared to be holding a full grown Great Dane.

"Ha!" I beamed, changing back into my vessel's normal form and leaping out of reach of both of the now angry Winchesters, "this is fun! Sorry, fellas, but I have some mischief to cause, so hasta luego, mutour-futours!"

"You can't use English, Spanish and Latin in the same sentence, Gabe."

"Well, I just did, so I think you are wrong," I disagreed, changing again. This time I changed into a cat -I would have gone for a bird, but I couldn't seem to get any of the flying ones- and went to race out the door. With a wave of his hand, Castiel fixed the doors and slammed them shut.

"Gabriel, please calm down and think things through. After what happened in the car, I feel that perhaps you should pause to think, instead of doing anything so quickly," my brother told me.

"What happened in the car?" Dean sobered quickly, face going serious. I felt he still wasn't too sure how much he trusted me, because he gave me a wary glance.

"Loki origins," Apollo said as I used brute force to rip the doors off their hinges; the way was now clear and Apollo sighed, "you can't stop it, Castiel. He's only going to get worse if you try. Believe me, I've seen the consequences and I've known them before."

I grinned, turning back into my vessel's usual, male form and heading towards the doors, "come on, Apollo! It's about time we invite ourselves to a party! Father knows how many pagans are just waiting for someone like me to come along and straighten them out!"

"No deals this time, no killing either," he frowned, trying to bargain with me, "gods know what happened last time Loki went to a party. But, hey, Freya never did forgive you for shaving all her cats."

"Are you telling me I created the sphynx cat breed, Apollo?" I beamed, "are you coming or not?"

"We're not dealing with Gabriel," Apollo clarified for the Hunters and their angel, "we're dealing with Loki. The original, how he was at first."

"Well, what do you expect?" I scowled at his tone, "I just remembered that I was trapped in a bottle for thousands of years, so let's get going and have some fun! Unless you want to end up like the trickster?"

Apollo cringed at the threat, but began to walk towards me.

"Gabe!"

"I don't have time for mortals right now, Cassandra, I have mischief to cause."

"Gabe," she said again, despite the glare I sent her that could have stopped death in his tracks, she gave me her best scolding look and continued, "it's just taking you a little bit longer than usual to shake off the side effects of Apollo messing with the lock. So just take a moment to calm down, okay?"

I angled my head up, looking down my nose at her as she walked towards me, "I don't have to listen to you, Cassandra, not anymore. Leave now. I wouldn't want to have gone through all this trouble only to end up disintegrating you."

"Oh no he didn't," Sera shook her head sadly, grabbing Castiel's hand and dragging him over to stand next to the Winchesters, "come on, Castiel, there's no helping him now."

Cassandra moved much quicker than I thought mortals could, grabbing a hold of my ear and yanking me down to her eye level, "alright, fine. I get it. You're the great Loki, guy with the silver tongue and all the lies. Good for you. But you're also Gabriel, the little angel I found living in a box who is like the son I never got to have, and I swear to your Father I am not going to let you walk out that door and do something you're going to regret. Because once you snap the hell out of whatever the hell this is, then you're going to be that Gabe again, and you're going to feel like hell over whatever you might end up doing, and I'm not going to let that happen to you. Not to my Gabe."

I opened my mouth to retaliate, my eyes narrowed at her but quickly losing their fury at her words, but she yanked on my ear again before I could respond.

"And I know you're that Gabe still and so I know that you don't have a single bone in your body able to disintegrate me, so you are going to shut your little mouth and not kill anybody today, do you hear me? At least not anybody that you don't have to. So you're going to snap the hell out of your little tantrum over something that happened thousands of years ago that you don't remember getting over just because you don't remember getting over it. You know why Amara probably put all the bad memories right up front? Because snapping is exactly what she wanted you to do. So is the great big norse God of tricks going to let somebody else trick him into doing something he doesn't want to do?"

I glared at her, but it had lost some of its fire.

She yanked on my ear again, making me let out of a small noise of disagreement, "ow!"

"I've let you do your own thing for too long, Gabe, and we all know how that goes, so you are going to stop and listen to what I tell you for once. Now, are you going to let yourself be tricked into doing something you regret?"

"...No."

"Are you going to listen to me?"

She had been staring me dead in the eye the whole time and I finally looked away as I agreed, "yes, yes, fine! Just let go of my ear!"

"Good," she let go of my ear and I stared after her, rubbing my ear, as she turned around and walked towards the doors, "now we are all going to go eat at a diner together so that we can all learn how to get along-" -her eyes flickered to the glaring contest between Castiel and Apollo, then returned to me- "-and figure out what we are going to do next. Everyone is going to be there and NOBODY is going to be running around killing people. Do I make myself clear?"

Nobody argued, not even the Winchesters.


	32. Chapter 32

(I don't own Supernatural...I don't own Merlin either and I'm putting that down too because it is mentioned in this chapter.)

Dean had tried suggesting a bar, but Cassandra had taken one look at our little group -especially me- and declared that we were not going to a bar because a drunk archangel was the last thing she wanted. For the majority of the meal nobody seemed to know what to say, and so nobody really said much of anything until Dean huffed and moved to break the silence hanging over us all.

"So what have you three been up to?" Dean seemed to have figured that the silence needed to go; he looked to Cas when he asked, but the angel hardly looked up from the plate he was staring at.

I reached over and sprinkled some ambrosia flavoring on his meal for him before I turned back to devouring my burger.

"Gabriel slept with a warlock named Merlin," Castiel happily volunteered the information to the Winchester, "and Apollo almost slept with a knight named Gwaine, but we had to go after Gabriel flashed the royal court of Camelot."

The only ones who didn't start choking on their food were the Maples and Castiel. Sera because she was too busy laughing, Cassandra because she isn't the type to get fazed, and Castiel because he shared the info in the first place.

"You know, I knew a Cassandra once," Apollo said quickly, sensing the need for a new topic, "of course, things didn't turn out all that great for her but-"

"Did you say Merlin?" Sam stared at me.

"I did not sleep with Merlin," I protested.

My brother cast me a confused glance, "you two were not as quiet as you thought you were, though I do agree, it did not seem that you and the warlock actually fell asleep at any point."

"Oh my god," my face burned and for a second I wondered if I could go back to being dead.

"Um, Cas, this is one of those things that people don't share with people. Understand?" Apollo spoke up, though the glass of his drink cracked under his tightening grip. A single glance at it, of course, and Apollo fixed it, "I would rather not hear your account on the audible details of Loki's one night stand that he said didn't happen."

Castiel was not quite ready to accept Apollo's advice and his eyes narrowed at the pagan, "of course, maybe if you weren't so focused on getting into my brother's pants-"

"So who is up for dessert?" Sera piped up, reaching across both Winchesters and Castiel to grab the dessert menu, "I, for one, would kill a baby demon for a scoop of ice cream right about now."

"Do they have pie?" Dean spoke up.

"I want pie," I agreed, "and ice cream. Ice cream and pie."

If Castiel noticed the glare I sent him, he didn't show any sign.

* * *

There was a soft glow in the motel room when I woke up. Though Apollo and I usually slept side by side on the floor at motels while Castiel never slept, my brother had grown fond of sleep and even fonder of sleeping right between me and the pagan that served as my space heater, so it took a second for me to realize that Apollo wasn't even present.

I sat up, having to move the wing Cassie had wrapped around me first to even do so. The glow came from the laptop sitting open on the table, where Apollo sat criss-cross in a chair at the table, eyes focused on the little screen.

"-guess you were right, you know, if you're watching this. Just... I just want you to know-"

"Apollo?" I yawned, confused as I recognized my own voice on whatever he was watching, "what'cha watching?"

His eyes flickered to me, and his face seemed shiny in the dim light of the computer, the whites of his eyes looking a bit reddish. A look of dismay appeared on his face wen he looked back to the computer screen as my voice cut off and was replaced by familiar music, "go back to sleep, Lokes, it's pretty late."

"Pagans don't need sleep, it just passes the time," I said, rubbing my eyes as Apollo quickly paused whatever he was watching, "are you crying?"

Apollo turned his attention back to the laptop, humming a tune that I knew all too well under his breath.

I yawned and laid back down, barely aware as the video he was watching resumed, "you can't just-" -another yawn- "-just sing a song and.. and make me go to sleep."

Even so, I relaxed and let myself be lulled to sleep by his humming.

* * *

Somebody was shaking my shoulder.

"Cassandraaaaaa," I whined, rolling over away from the intrusion upon my sleep, "you've got that moose of a Winchester to do the research now, leave me alooooonnnneee."

"Sssshhhhh," a deep voice that was most certainly not Cassandra's shushed me, "a lot of the others are still sleeping, so keep it down."

I scrunched up my face before cracking open an eye to see the face of the very moose I had been talking about, "Sam? What? What are you waking me up for?"

He gave me some space as I sat up, about to speak when I noticed my lack of feather blanket, "there's-"

"Where's Cas?" I squinted at the window, confused as to why it seemed dark still.

Sam rose from his crouching position and stepped over the sun pagan who was on the floor, out like a light (ha, see what I did there? Ha, that was a bright one, wasn't it? Oh, shut up, Sammy, those were good puns).

"They really weren't, Gabriel."

Oh, I guess I said the puns out loud.

"Cas got a text from Claire-"

"Who?"

"His vessel's daughter. She contacted him and said she needed his help. Dean went with him to go find her."

"Hmph," I ran my hand through my hair, frowning at my obvious bed head. At least I wasn't alone, seeing as how Sam had an even worse case- and with a single swipe of his hand though his hair, Sam seemed to have tamed his mane... "oh, come on!"

"What?" Sam paused, surprise clear on his face at my outburst.

"I can deal with you being tall, I can deal with you being hot, but perfect hair? Fuck you, you freak of nature!"

"Seriously?" he stared at me like I had gone insane, but maybe I had because I'm pretty sure I heard him mutter, "he thinks I'm hot?" under his breath.

"Why did you wake me up?" I complained.

"Oh, right," he nodded, biting back a yawn; he must have woken up recently himself, "kid at the door, asking for Gabriel."

"For me?" I finally got up, trudgng towards the door, "who-?"

When I opened the door to see the young teen, probably not even older than 15, standing on the other side of the motel door, the immense amount of fear and anxiety coming off of the kid in waves almost knocked me off my feet. A frown made its way onto my face in response to the onslaught of negative emotions radiating from the boy. His eyes darted back and forth, but it didn't look too out of place on the kid's scrawny features. I could even feel a sense of hunger emenating from him, and when I sent out a strand of Grace to investigate, it bumped against the hunger gnawing at his empty stomach.

"Can I help you?" I asked, taking in the kid's dirty features. Homeless? Runaway? Just really, really poor?

"Are you-" the kid shifted from one foot to the other, "are you Gabriel? Uh-" -he ganced at some smuged writing on his hand- "-Gabriel Loki?"

"Depends. Who wants to know?"

"Um," he shifted again, "I- I have a message for you?"

The way he said it sounded more like a question than a statement. I glanced at his hands at the clean, white envelope he was clenching in his hands as he held it out to me.

I accepted it, turning it over but finding no markings, no sign of who had sent it.

The kid turned to leave, a sense of relief and a feeling I did not recognize coiling in his gut like a storm, but it turned into the sharp cold of fear when I spoke, "hey, kid."

He jumped a little, but caught the roll of money I tossed him on reflex, staring at it in shock.

"Don't spend it all in one place," I told him.

That unfamiliar feeling radiating from him grew tenfold. Was it gratitude? Didn't feel like it. Didn't feel like annoyance either.

"T-thank you," he croaked, and then he was hurrying off, as if I could change my mind and demand the money back at any moment.

I stared after the boy for a second before shutting the door. The nail on my pointer finger shifted into a claw and I used it to cut open the top, my finger shifting back to normal afterwards. The writing was in ancient Greek, but I must have learned it at some point since it easily translated in my mind.

 _Found another archangel sword. Interested? We can negotiate a deal? ~Hermes_

I glanced over the address and time listed underneath the message with interest. If one archangel sword possibly isn't enough to ice my Father, then two just might. Can I dual wield? I wonder if I ever had. Only problem was that I no longer have wings to fly me there, Apollo can't get me there because it was still dark out and he never wakes up until sunrise, and I can't drive. The Maples can, but I didn't want to risk trying to wake either one of them up.

But there was one conscious individual who had a license.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" he paused, hand frozen where he had just been about to grab something from the fridge.

"Can you give me a ride somewhere?"

"A ride?" he turned his attention back to the fridge, "can't you just fly wherever you want? You've done so every time before."

I made a show of rolling my shoulders, as if I was stretching my wings out, and choked down the bitter feeling that rose in me in favor of faking a pained wince, "but they're always stiff in the morning."

"I was about to go on a run," he glanced at the door, but I gave him the innocent little look that always makes Cassandra melt into getting me whatever sort of candy I was trying to wheedle out of her; Sam fared no better, "well, I guess maybe a drive wouldn't hurt, and we can take the Impala since Cas flew himself and Dean out to go find Claire... exactly where are you trying to go?"

I showed him the address, but it took a couple minutes for him to finally give in.

"At least grab the books you borrowed from Becky," Sam finally relented, "we can drive through that town on the way and you can drop them off."

Oh, I had completely forgotten about those, what with everything going on. Sam had already gone out and started up the Impala by the time I slipped into the passenger seat with books in hand.

He glanced at me, shook his head as if still confused as to why he was driving me an entire state over, and shifted the Impala into drive.

I, meanwhile, turned my attention to the books in my hands.

If I was going to be returning them, then I should probably finish reading them all.


	33. Chapter 33

(I don't own Supernatural. Sorry this chapter took so long. I insulted Dean's hunting skills Sunday night, so he was waiting until I headed up the stairs before he darted forward and tripped me, making me fall up the stairs. Might have possibly torn ACL, so the ligament keeping my knee together might be torn. Not going to insult the Maine Coon cat again. Crutches suck.)

I left the last book, the one where I die, alone but read the rest. Even then, we still weren't at Becky's. Sam had switched through the radio until he found a pop station and I watched him drive for a little bit before I spoke, "sorry."

Sam glanced at me before turning his eyes back on the road, "for what?"

"All those things I did... like hitting you in the jewels with a steel ball on a Japanese game show."

Sam cringed and shifted in his seat as if he was experiencing phantom pains from the memory of the incident, "looking back... I guess you were trying to help... in your own... twisted way. Uh, Dean and I don't really like to talk about anything that happened at Tvland, okay?"

I nodded in understanding, "yeah, I get it. There are just some things that are better left forgotten."

"Exactly," Sam nodded back.

"So are the Tuesdays' something we just don't talk about?"

His grip whitened on the steering wheel, "absolutely."

We sunk back into silence, the only noise being the noise of the road and the car; oh, and the sound of Ariana singing All About That Base.

I reached forward to change it, but Sam slapped my hand away, "hey, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."

I nursed my hand dramatically before looking over at his grin, "you were just waiting to say that, weren't you?"

"All my life," his grin grew.

"So you're just going to keep on listening to a song that I'm pretty sure is about butts?"

"I think she's trying to say that butts don't matter."

"So you're really self conscious about your butt, then?"

Sam looked over at me and stared at me while Ariana kept us from an awkward silence. After a second of about as awkward a silence we were going to get, he reached forward and switched the station, "leave my butt out of this."

"You shouldn't be self-conscious about your butt, your butt is fine," I waved him off.

"I'm not self-conscious about my- wait, you've been staring at my butt?"

"No," I gave him an innocent look, smirking on the inside.

He seemed to accept that I was telling the truth.

"I prefer the term appreciating."

Sam nearly swerved off the road.

"Wow, you should keep your eyes on the road, Sammy. With you and your brother rarely ever actually looking at the damn thing, it's a surprise you haven't ever crashed."

"It's Sam," he corrected me, "and apparently you haven't been keeping your eyes on the road either."

"I wasn't staring, I was appreciating."

"Yes, I heard you the first time."

"You're blushing," I grinned in victory at the scarlet hue the Moose Winchester's face had taken on.

"Just- just shut up."

"Got it."

"I mean it."

"Kay-O."

"Gabe."

I mimed zipping my mouth shut and throwing the key, except my hand made it look like I was throwing my fake key out the window. I looked back, imagining a key bouncing along the pavement.

"Thank you," Sam said, turning the wheel and taking the car onto a side road into a set of familiar suburbs. We both got a little antsy when we noticed how many cars were parked in her driveway, but Sam still pulled up to the curb where he could, a little bit aways.

It took me a moment to realize he was staring at me, "mmmfff?"

He rolled his eyes and said, very sarcastically, "yes, you can talk, Gabe."

"Why are you staring at me?"

He stared at me like I was stupid, "you're going to go up to the door, knock on the door, leave the books outside the door, and we're going to go get to wherever you're trying to go."

"Oh," I nodded and unbuckled (road safety is not to be trifled with) and hurried from the car. I was halfway to the door before Sam called put to me to alert me to the fact that I had left the books in the car. A minute later found me at the door with a red face of embarrassment. I knocked on the door, but it opened before I could leave the books and retreat. I froze awkwardly, books still in hand, because it seemed a bit rude to just take off now.

Becky stared at me, a look of awe on her face.

"I..-I read them," I said finally, shuffling my weight from one foot to the other, "I just figured-"

She reached forward and poked my chest, hand moving down slowly until I was squirming from the ticklish feeling of her prodding my abs, "do you really have a six pack?"

I was awfully confused and bewildered by this point, "um, uh-"

She lifted up my shirt a bit, "you do."

Any words I might have said evaporated in my throat.

It took about a couple more seconds of her poking my abs before my brain caught up to me, "could you please stop touching me?"

"No."

This confused me even more, "I believe the socially acceptable answer to such a question is yes."

She didn't move her hand away, "do you want to come inside?"

"Uh, not really."

"Come in," she said, finally moving her hand only to grab my shirt and forcefully tug me into the house. I grabbed onto the doorway to stop myself from falling into her home, looking back to shoot a look of panic at Sam before she'd accomplished her task and slammed he door shut. I did not miss her locking it.

"Um, I really have somewhere I need to go," I said quickly, but she was already pulling me into the living room.

"Look who wanted to join book club!" Becky declared, and I found myself freezing at the sight of others in the room as my brain tried to catch up with what was happening. Several were too involved with the pie books to pay me any mind, but a certain brunette was glaring at me like I had just spoiled her favorite series for her.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to-"

"Loki," a straight-haired brunette spoke up from her seat, and a part of me felt like I had seen her somewhere before, "how nice of you to join us. I'm leaving."

"But we haven't even started yet!" Becky argued, handing a book to me. I glanced at it, eyes roaming the title.

What sort of dumbass title is 'The Lost Archangel'?

"If he is going to be here, then I will not be," the brunette declared, getting to her feet. I let my Grace reach forward to get a sense of her, feeling the same sort of power I usually felt from pagans. A pagan?

"I'm sorry, have I insulted you in some way?" I stopped her before she could shoulder past me.

She recoiled as if she'd been burnt, giving me a hate filled glare as she shoved my hand off of her shoulder and leaned forward, hissing to me, "as if you wouldn't know."

"I really don't know-"

"Why I would rather stick your head on a pike and watch the birds feast on your eyes than even hear your stupid name," she hissed in reply, "even if your little sob story about amnesia was true, Apollo would have told you."

"I don't even know who you are!" I hissed back at her, "so no, I really don't know. And how do you know him?"

It really was kind of stupid asking a pagan how they knew of a Greek Olympian. Apollo wasn't exactly low on the Greek chain.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," a dark haired man looked up from his book before turning the majority of his attention back to said book, "are we starting the book club meeting soon? My vacation is almost up and I'll have to head back to London."

"Yes," Becky said before turning her attention on me and the pagan, "if you're going to be here for the meeting, you and Gabriel can't be causing any trouble."

"Trouble?" I laughed, before the realization hit, "wait, I never told you my name-"

"Oh, you didn't need to," Becky practically squealed, waving the book in her hand around, "come on, book club start!"

"I haven't read this book!"

"Oh, you don't need to, Gabe," Becky said, patting me on the shoulder; her hand moved to my bicep and I had to wave her off.

"Keep your grubby little boy self on the other side of the room," the brunette pagan told me, shooting me the side eye as she grudgingly returned to her seat.

"Really, Sam's waiting in the car-"

"You can invite him in," Becky said with a creepily large amount of enthusiasm.

"I think he's good," I said, sitting down quickly. It was too late for me; Sam could still escape the fangirl, but how she figured out my real identity was something I couldn't figure out. Maybe she was a genius with a high IQ, hiding it all below a crazy exterior so that nobody will ever expect her when she strikes, dragging her favorite characters down in a flurry of fangirl with no chance of escape-

"So, what did everyone think?" Becky sat down right next to me, but I was right at the side of the couch so there was nowhere for me to go as she curled up next to me, "did everyone read to the specified chapter we all agreed to stop at?"

"I'm guessing Ronda read ahead," the dark haired man said, "she always reads ahead. Don't spoil anything again, Ronda."

A girl with her red hair in a pixie cut, Ronda I would guess, let out a grumble, "shut up, Anderson. I didn't even read ahead this time... okay, maybe just a page or two..."

"Told you," Anderson said smugly, "didn't I tell her?"

"Shush!" Becky declared, opening her book up and glancing at it before closing it, "so we left off at the end of chapter 22, right?"

"Ronda didn't."

"How could you expect me to finish that chapter and not read farther!?" Ronda yelled at Anderson.

"Everybody else did!"

"I can't believe the author let you make a cameo, Becky," a teen with short, blond hair said, and I almost jumped since I hadn't even noticed him. He stared at Becky with admiration in his eyes, and I could feel the affection he felt for her coming off of him in waves, with a bit of jealousy towards me mixed in, "that's so cool."

"Yeah, we're old friends, the author and I," Becky said proudly, "pretty cool, huh, Rick?"

Rick nodded, grinning.

The brunette who hated me let out an angry grumble, "not that big of a deal. I have books written about me and you don't see me gloating over my hundreds of cameos."

"Okay, back on track," Becky said, "so Gabriel found the cd he'd left for himself. Anybody have any ideas on what he might learn?"

"What?" my face blanched and I opened the book to the page Becky was on, eyes scouring the page, my confusion quickly turning to horror. He wouldn't dare, would he? Apparently he did dare. My Father had gone and made a Supernatural spin-off based on my amnesia.

"It just kind of skips over that part mostly, but he learns how to change his shape," Ronda spoke up.

"SPOILERS!" Anderson screeched, "LIER! You read more than a couple pages past!"

"Just wait until-"

"No spoilers!" Becky cast a glance at me as if I might leap up onto the coffee table and start spouting out spoilers even though Ronda was the guilty one.

"And then he goes to find Apollo-"

Anderson angrily whipped a pillow at Ronda, effectively shutting her up.

"He should just let Apollo rot wherever he is," Rick declared, "Apriel is getting in the way of my Sabriel OTP!"

"Apriel?" I echoed.

"No, all three need to be there!" Ronda argued, wiggling her eyebrows, "Sapriel all the way."

"Nobody ships your threesome, Ronda!" Anderson yelled at her.

"Threesome?" if anything, I was just getting more confused.

"Sapriel," Ronda was more than happy to explain, "Sam, Gabriel, and Apollo! Slash party!"

My face went beat red and I hurriedly tried to shake the horrifying image from my mind.

"Apriel is the only ship that matters," Anderson argued, reaching into his bag and pulling out several folders, "luckily for you all, I brought some of my theories on why Apriel is canon-"

The group let out a collective groan.

"Nobody cared about your other theories, Anderson, why would anybody care about your Apriel theories!" Ronda whined.

"Because I was right! He wasn't dead. I will admit, a wrench was thrown in my Johnlock theories because of Mary but-"

"Apriel?" I echoed again.

"Gabriel and Apollo," the brunette replied, the one who hated me. I still hadn't got her name. She seemed more interested in examining her nails than joining the drama, "I ship it."

"See? I'm not the only one," Anderson pointed out, "a lot of the fan base is starting to realize-"

"Starting to convert if you ask me!" Ronda complained, "what's the point if Sam's not in on it, too! It's subtext that something is going on! Gabriel's an Archangel, I'm pretty sure that he would be able to-"

"STOP!" I practically screamed.

They all stopped and stared at me.

I took a deep breath, "the only ship that matters is Destiel."

The room exploded back into chaos. Even Becky had stormed to her feet to join the argument, and I was able to slip away from the fray and escape into the kitchen. I took a deep breath of relief, but it was soon clear that I wasn't the only one to have taken the chance to escape.

"He really didn't tell you, did he? You didn't even tell yourself?"

"You're not glaring at me as much," I observed.

"They would have been in a frenzy if he had," she looked me up and down, "do you remember how Apollo died?"

"He told me," I said, "so I don't need to, since Apollo already told me. Zeus killed him because Zeus caught us planning a rebellion."

She stared at me for a second before she snorted in amusement, "and you believed that mound of bullshit? I haven't seen so much bull in one place since King Minos."

"What would you know?" I snapped at her, glancing back into the living room; maybe if I hurried, or went invisible or something, I could make it to the door before Becky noticed I was leaving.

"Because I was there, dumbass," she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes," her silver eyes blazed, and suddenly I realized where I had seen her before; those same, silver eyes that had glared at me in Olympus, so similar to the golden eyes of the Olympian I knew so well and yet her eyes were so different from Apollo's, "perhaps you really don't remember anything, do you? I'm Artemis."


	34. Chapter 34

(I don't own Supernatural.)

There were a thousand things I could have said to Artemis, but I found myself blurting out "you hung up on Apollo" instead of something intelligent like "what do you mean Apollo has been lying to me?" and Artemis rolled her eyes at me.

"I was kind of in the middle of something at the time of the call."

"So it had nothing to do with the rumor that Apollo and I were shagging?"

"Oh, puh-lease," Artemis huffed, "that ain't no rumor. I already knew you were an Archangel and- oh, get your hand away from your side, Loki! I'm not going to try and turn you in, so keep your sword holstered."

My face flushed and I stuck my hand in my pocket since I didn't know what else to do with it; I hadn't even noticed that I had been reaching for my Archangel blade.

"It's not a rumor either that you two frequented each other's bedrooms," Artemis rolled her eyes at me, "Apollo knew you were an Archangel before me, back when he first met you and he foresaw it. He was new to the whole prophecy god thing, since he had just killed Python, and he happened to have the wonderful luck of discovering you were an Archangel while you were dangling him over a pit of snakes for beating on some mortals. By the time you let him go and he came running to me, he was terrified! It didn't take that long for that terror to turn to annoyance when you kept following him everywhere to make sure he didn't tell anybody who you really were. Eventually, you two became practically inseparable. Then it was annoying to me!"

"I did what?" I blanched at the idea of doing such a thing to Apollo. Maybe it would have been a possibility, back when I was still mad at him, but now?

"Old news, Apollo's practically forgotten the whole thing by this point, most likely. He's stupid, like most boys," she waved her hand dismissively, "he really didn't tell you any of this?"

"He acted surprised that I was an Archangel," I pouted, leaning against the counter and trying not to be offended by her off hand comment. If Apollo lied to me about how he died... "you said he lied about how he died... why would he lie about that? How do I know you aren't lying to me right now?"

"I guess I should be thankful that he hasn't hit on any of my Hunters since he took that oath on the river Styx for you," she said, completely ignoring me, "so I guess I owe you for that. That's why I'm not lying to you."

"An oath?" dear Father, if anything it seemed that I wasn't getting answers, just more questions.

"You mean he didn't tell you about that either?" I could sense her disbelief, so strong that I had to take a moment to make sure it wasn't coming from me -it wasn't- and she let out a laugh, "you know, when Zeus and Odin arranged that marriage for the truce?"

"What marriage?"

"Jeez, you're just a ball of twenty questions aren't you?" Artemis narrowed her eyes, annoyance radiating from her before suddenly the annoyance all fell, "wait... you're serious?"

"Truce. Marriage. I have no idea what you're talking about," I had to keep myself from snapping at her, "just get to the point already!"

"He really didn't tell you," and there was her disbelief again, mixed with a sense of... I wasn't too sure what it was. Pity, perhaps? "A century ago, two months before Apollo died, Odin and Zeus arranged a marriage between you and Apollo. Despite not being one of Odin's children, so he shouldn't have had the option of choosing you for the arrangement, but you had just killed Baldur and had agreed to it as long as you were freed from the stone they had tied you down to. Odin even went and untied you from the stone himself. You were hesitant at first, seeing as how you didn't want to marry someone who might be cheating on you every five seconds, so Apollo swore on the river Styx that he would never sleep with anyone but you ever again. They were trying to bring Baldur back in your pantheon at the time, though, and Zeus wouldn't cry, so the treaty fell to shambles before the marriage could go through."

I pulled a chair out from Becky's kitchen table and sunk into it, mind wheeling as everything clicked into place. No wonder Apollo was so bent out of shape when I slept with Merlin. The feeling that fell over me felt a lot like that feeling I had sensed from that kid who had given me the letter from Hermes, only this time the feeling was coming from me. Was it... was this what guilt felt like? I haven't felt it very often, but a dim part of me knew I must have felt it at some point since coming back. But it couldn't possibly be true, "you're lying. The Norse legends said it was a giant that wouldn't cry, that it was me in disguise."

"Different pantheons don't mix in the legends, too confusing for their followers," Artemis disagreed, "besides, you of all people know that the scribes often twist things a bit. Of course they blamed you."

"Surely they would have written down such talk of a treaty?" I tried again, struggling to poke holes in what could be only a lie.

"As I said, too confusing for the followers to consider. Few mortals know, and I am so sick of getting asked if we just take turns with out duties from the ones that do know. I'm always getting asked if I have to share the moon. I always tell them same thing: how dare you talk to me."

"How generous of you," I grumbled, though it was a little muffled since I had my head in my hands, so it sounded less sarcastic than it was supposed to.

"Exactly," she agreed, "Zeus blamed Apollo for the failure of the treaty and threw him into Tartarus."

I recognized the feeling that started coming from her as grief.

"If our mother had been there..." Her face fell, "when Zeus killed Asclepius, Apollo retaliated by killing the children of the cyclops that made Zeus' lightning bolt. Zeus was so angry that he almost threw Apollo into Tartarus, but our mother, Leto, talked him out of it. When Zeus killed Apollo by throwing him into Tartarus after the treaty didn't go through, it nearly killed our mother. She blamed herself, for not being there to stop Zeus."

"Why didn't I?" I blinked back tears, some locked memory fermenting grief and guilt within me, "why didn't I stop Zeus?"

It took a couple minutes before she found herself able to answer. When she did, she sounded bitter, and I could sense that the anger she felt was directed at me, "when the treaty fell, Odin tied you back down to the rock with your son's guts. You were too busy having a snake drip poison onto your face to notice what was going on anywhere else."

Even though I couldn't remember the event, I shivered despite myself, feeling phantom pain on my face.

"You should've done more," she growled, "for someone so cunning, you're unbelievably stupid. You should have known that Zeus was going to find a scapegoat, and you should have kept my brother safe!"

I didn't respond, head still in my hands.

Artemis seemed to deflate and she snapped her fingers, sinking down onto the stool that she summoned. We sat there in silence for a couple minutes before the silence was pierced by the shrill cry of my phone, making me move my head from my hands. I glanced at Sam's caller ID across the screen when I pulled it from my pocket and quickly silenced it, not too keen on being interrupted at the moment.

"Why would Apollo lie to me?" it came out in a hurt whisper, my smooth tongue failing me once again, "why would he lie to me about this?"

"How would I know?" Artemis responded, getting to her feet, "they'll notice we're gone soon enough."

We both glanced at the doorway to the living room, but it seemed they were still at war with each other over their ships. I cringed as I saw Ronda scream 'Sapriel' at the top of her lungs before she whacked Anderson upside the head with his own graph. He screamed 'Apriel' in reply and tackled her; the two were carried by momentum and flipped over the couch. Problem was, the momentum made the couch fall with them, since it wasn't against a wall.

"Are they always like that?" I asked Artemis, hoping that perhaps our position overlooking the drama may bypass her hatred for me.

"For certain matters."

"At least Anderson's going to be happy," I said bitterly, "once my Father puts this conversation in his book."

My phone rang out again, Sam's ID flashing across the top. I silenced it again.

"Do you come to book club often?" I asked Artemis.

Artemis glanced at me but didn't turn her head to look at me all the way, her silver eyes staring at me like the eyes of a hawk, "you're different."

"Still Gabriel."

She laughed, but it wasn't as bitter as her last one, "the last time I saw you, you said you hoped the snake's venom killed you so that you wouldn't have to hear me nag at you anymore."

"Nothing about Apollo? I didn't care?"

For the first time since I've met her, her face softened a bit, "I told you what happened to Apollo after you said that. Last glimpse I had of you, you were crying. You told me you hoped the snake's venom killed you, but you said nothing about my nagging that second time."

"Dramatic," I said, trying for a grin. It didn't work and I barely got the edge of my mouth to go up, the smile as much as a flop as my attempt at easing the tension.

"You always were," she said softly.

My phone ruined the sad moment. Sam's ID again. I let out a sigh of annoyance and finally accepted the call, voice coming out a bit sharply, "hold your horses, I'm in the middle of something."

Sam's voice came out even sharper than mine had, raised and angry, "I don't care if you're in the middle of getting laid! Car! Now!"

"It's a conversation, actually," I said, tongue silver once more.

"It's a trap."

All smartassery left me, "what?"

"Car. Now."

"What do you mean a trap!?"

"Claire never texted Cas. Somebody wanted Cas away from the motel. And I'm guessing somebody wanted you away from the motel too."

I cursed, slamming the flip-phone shut, effectively hanging up on him, "thank you for telling me this, Artemis."

"A thank you from Loki, I should put it in a book of firsts," Artemis said sarcastically, glancing into the living room, "I'll head back in once things calm down a bit."

I raced through the living room -narrowly missing getting in the trajectory of a graph on the probability of Apriel that Ronda had just thrown at Anderson- and made it out the door unscathed. Sam was waiting outside the Impala, a look of impatience on his face.

"Gabe, you need to fly us to the motel," Sam said, shoving his phone into his pocket as I reached the Impala.

"We're going to have to drive," I said instead, heart dropping into my stomach. There was a phantom twitch of pain where my wings should have been, but I was used to biting down the pain. Apollo had told me that a lot of people -or immortals- that have lost limbs can sometimes feel pain where the limb should have been.

"We don't have time for driving, Gabriel!" Sam snapped, holding his hand out for me to take so I could fly us to the motel on wings I was supposed to have, "I don't care if your wings are still stiff, the Maples could be in trouble."

My heart leaped up into my throat at the idea of my Hunters being in trouble, "I- I'll just crash. You might get hurt."

"The Maples could be dead right now and you're worried about crashing!?" Sam slammed his hand down on the roof of the car.

"Sam, I can't fly," my eyes burned and my chest felt tight as I said it; I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to bite down the dark lump growing in my throat, "I- I can't."

"Bullshit, you have six wings!" Sam narrowed his eyes at me, the anger rolling off of him so strong I felt like I was choking, "Dean was right! You haven't changed at all! Still putting yourself first like all the other-"

"I CAN'T FLY BECAUSE POSEIDON CHOPPED MY WINGS OFF!" I screamed, nearby streetlights shattering. A couple cars had their windshields shatter, but the Impala was left unscathed. The silence that fell between us was broken by the sound of my breathing as I found myself unable to bring enough air into my lungs.

"And- and I let him," I said, staring at the ground, my eyesight a bit unsteady with the water spots from the tears, "Poseidon had my Archangel blade. He used it to chop off every single one of my wings. They're mounted on his throne like trophies. I can't fly."

Sam stared at me before taking a shaky breath, "that's what Cas was so bent out of shape about... and why you were so off balance."

"Yes."

Sam took a deep breath before opening the driver side door and sliding into the Impala, "get in."

"What?" I stared at him, my voice breaking as I said it.

"Get in the Impala."

I slid into the passenger seat, not even reaching for my seatbelt as Sam started it and hit the gas, the tires squealing as he sped out of the neighborhood. He sped up even more when we reached the highway, but not a word was spoken until after the first hour.

"You're going to have to tell Dean and the Maples, if the Maples are okay."

I stayed silent, staring out the window.

"Gabriel-"

"I heard you."

Sam glanced at me.

"Eyes on the road when you're going so fast, please?" I croaked out. First learning the truth about Apollo from Artemis and now this? It was too much.

Sam turned his gaze back onto the road, "we can't let a misunderstanding like this happen again. You're going to have to tell them."

"They don't have to know."

This anger was different from the anger he had earlier; that anger had been loud, worried anger. This anger was cold and quiet, "either you tell them or I will."

I looked away from the window for the first time since we'd sped away from Becky's house, "I can't."

"Then I will."

"Sam, please-" I begged.

"You have those two options, Gabriel," Sam said, not budging from his decision.

"Just a little longer," I pleaded, "nobody has to know that I don't have my wings."

Sam didn't respond.

"Sammy-"

"Don't call me Sammy," he corrected immediately.

"Sam, please, I can't have anybody know."

He glanced at me then turned his eyes back on the road, "why did you do it? You said you let him take your wings. Why?"

I didn't respond.

"Gabriel-?"

"Leave me alone," I growled, "I don't want to talk about it."

"You can't just have something like that happen and just bury it down!" Sam shouted, making me jump. He paused to take a deep breath; when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, "trust me. We've all been through it."

"We've all had wings that get chopped off very painfully?" I asked him bitterly.

"Well, no, but-"

"Then drop it."

Sam sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "what I'm trying to say is that we've all gone through some shitty situations. Hell, I was in the cage with Lucifer; Dean's been to Hell and Purgatory. We try to keep that stuff down and eventually it all blows up in our face."

I spared him a glance before turning my gaze back out the window, "then you, of all people, should know that I can't let them know."

"Just.. think about what I've said, Gabriel."

I didn't look away from the window, dreading what may be waiting for us once we get to the motel, "I will."


	35. Chapter 35

(I don't own Supernatural.)

I sensed Ares before we had even reached the motel. I phased through the car and was running on four feet before I even hit the ground, paws the size of a bear's pounding the pavement. My Fenrir form skidded a little as I veered into the parking lot of the motel, but I managed to stay upright. I found the door I needed mainly by scent and leaped through it, phasing through and becoming solid on the other side, focused on my sole task.

I was rewarded, of course, by almost getting shot through the face. Fortunately, there was a rug in front of the door and when I landed on it my momentum carried both of us forward; a new hole appeared in the door behind me instead of appearing in my face. I slammed into the mini fridge face-first with an undignified yelp.

Cassandra prepared her pistol to fire again.

I wasn't too sure I could understand what was going on. One of my pack members had just shot fire from an odd looking silver stick.

It was about then that Sam burst through the door, gun at the ready. Sera whipped her gun up to point at him but didn't fire.

"Gabe!" Sam snapped his eyes from the door to me, "you okay?"

Gabe! I knew that name! That was... hey, that was me! I'm Gabe! I let out a whine, but wagged my tail to show that, other than my pride, I was unharmed.

"Gabe?" Cassandra lowered her pistol and clicked on the safety all in one motion while Sera did the same with her own weapon.

I wagged my tail, a thump-thump-thump against the side of the mini fridge. I rolled over onto my belly and got to my feet, shaking like a wet dog before padding over to Cassandra with my best doggy smile; I sniffed her hand to show her that all was forgiven.

"He turned into that when we got here," Sam lowered his own gun upon seeing that everyone appeared to be mostly unscathed, "everybody's okay?"

Sera grabbed somebody's shirt off the table and waved it in front of my nose. I snapped up the end of it and pulled, letting out a playful growl as she let out a happy squeal and pulled on her end.

"He's a dog!" Sera beamed, "who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

I didn't understand how she expected me to have an answer to such a question. Who was a good-

"You are! Yes, you are!" Sera cooed.

Oh my Father, it is me! I am! I am the good boy!

"Sera, please don't speak baby talk to Gabriel."

"But wook at him!" Sera cooed, relinquishing her hold on the t-shirt and wrapping her arms around my neck. I shook my head, snapping up the shirt and holding my head up high in victory at winning Tug-of-War. I squirmed out of her grip and leaped a couple steps to the side, shaking my head and bowing down in the Play-Request position in the hopes that I could taunt her into playing Keep-Away, "Cas! Where's my camera?"

"He... he usually acts like a dog in that form," Sam said, looking around the motel warily, "he should be back to normal eventually. Are Dean and Cas back yet? Are you guys okay?"

Cassandra's features twisted into a familiar expression, the one she gets when remembering something she's forgotten, "why wouldn't we be? Speaking of which, where did you all go? And why is Gabriel a huge wolf?"

I caught the scent again and dropped the t-shirt, moving my nose to the floor. It wasn't in here. Nearby and fading, mixed with a scent that I felt I should remember. I followed it to the door and phased through.

The door opened behind me as I scoured up and down the parking lot, searching for direction. Sera clapped her hands in her excitement, "it's happening, guys. We have become the Mystery Inc crew. I call Velma. Sam can be Daphne."

"What if I don't want to be Daphne? Cassandra can be Daphne," Sam grumbled in response.

"I would have called Scoob, but it seems Gabe has that part covered," Cassandra replied, "I'll be Fred. Don't worry, Sam, you can stay as Daphne. Your hair is almost long enough."

"Hardy har har," Sam cast Cassandra a dose of his famous bitch face.

I paused, my nose bumping against a white feather. It smelled great, to be honest, with a hint of that slight smell all pagans had. I stared at it, trying to place it, but all that popped into my mind was 'Daphne.'

Daphne? What use was the name of a scooby doo character to me?

I sniffed it again, trying to gain more insight into its origins. Pagan, pretty sure, but what sort of pagan had white wing-

Oh.

Daphne.

Eros.

Eros had shot Daphne and Apollo, cranking Apollo's love meter off the chart and Daphne's love meter to hate. She had pleaded to someone -differing depending on which version of the legend- and had been turned into a tree, from which a heartbroken Apollo created the laurel. I had read of the legend not too long ago, but it wasn't Daphne that the feather came from, it was Eros.

I had met him before, and his wings had been white. Weren't they?

I sniffed the feather again, just to be sure. Now that I had placed the scent, I was certain that it came from the wings of Eros. I inhaled the scent again and then started on the trail, ears perked forward as I weaved across the parking lot with more purpose before shoving my way through some bushes on the edge of the lot. The scent remained strong, and I continued to follow it onto a field, where it twisted with a new scent. Ares.

I let out a growl despite myself the instant the smell hit my nose; Ares smelled like dried blood and smoke, mixed with that slight scent common with all pagans.

Sam and Cassandra moved through the bushes with a lot less noise than I had, stopping for Sera to catch up. They didn't say anything, fortunately, watching me as I regained the trail and hurried along towards its source.

I almost lost it when I hit a dirt road on the other side of the field, distracted by a new scent. This newcomer had circled around the field, scent a bit fresher than the other two. I sniffed it again, placing it easily; Apollo must have noticed Eros and Ares and circled around to follow without being seen.

It was easier to follow the scent of Apollo, a scent I knew well, and I followed this one instead of the other two pagans. My tail wagged at the scent and I started on the trail once more.

"You're not just following a squirrel, are you?" Sera spoke up; from the looks on Sam and Cassandra's faces, it seemed this occurred to them upon having Sera speak the idea aloud.

I huffed and rolled my eyes at Sera; please, if I was after a squirrel I would have sneaked up on it as a fellow squirrel and then transformed back into Fenrir just in time to capture it.

"Well, sorry," Sera huffed back at me.

I let out a low growl of agreement and turned my nose back to the ground.

Half an hour later found us at the edge of a dirt driveway to an old house. The roof looked like it was falling in a bit near the top, with some of the shingles of the Victorian style house appearing to be falling off. The dark exterior seemed to have been white once, and a couple of the windows seemed to have broken on the second story.

It didn't seem like the sort of place a Greek pagan would want to hang out in.

I shifted back into my vessel's usual form, stretching and feeling a bit of satisfaction as everything snapped back into place, "Eros and Ares, in there. At least I think so."

"Eros, that hot Greek pagan guy that married Psyche? That was my favorite Greek myth. That part where Psyche tricks her evil sisters into jumping off the cliff to their deaths? Ha, classic," Sera seemed to perk up, though Cassandra shot her a glare that quickly shut her up.

"Two Greek pagans?" Sam shifted from one foot to the other in unease, "you couldn't have, maybe, told us what we were following after back when we could have grabbed weapons that could take out pagans?"

"Don't worry," I cast the moose a reassuring grin, "you guys have me."

"An Archangel not firing on all cylinders?" he asked, raising an eyebrow; something told me that he wasn't convinced.

"I'm pretty sure I'm on good terms with Eros," I nodded, trying to ignore his hinting jab, "and Ares? Well, surely he'll steer clear of me."

"So we're going off of assumptions."

"It would be a lot better if you weren't being the king of _**ass**_ umptions."

Cue bitch face; ha, never gets old.

"I'll go in first," I promised, hand itching for my Archangel blade, "they don't have anything that can hurt me."

"You can't just go in there alone," Cassandra protested, reaching for her gun.

I gave the eldest Maple a reassuring grin, "I'll be fine, Cassandra. I'm the only one here prepared and able to take out a pagan. You guys keep an eye out for Dean and Cassie, if they show up. Give me an hour."

She held my gaze for a minute or two before sighing, leaving her gun in its holster, "fine."

My grin grew and I nodded, turning and starting for the house. I cast my Grace out upon reaching the door, but I didn't sense too much. I gave the Hunters a mock salute before phasing through the door, a much quieter way of entering the house than opening a door that may creak. Besides, it wasn't like there were any normal mortals around to see me and start freaking out at a guy walking through a door. I had never even considered the option of phasing through a door until I had leaped through the motel door as Fenrir.

The very second I was inside the house I drew my sword, the familiar weight of it in my hand helping to put me at ease. I cast my Grace around the first floor but I felt nothing out of the ordinary.

I heard it before I felt it, a small disturbance in the air around me that I probably wouldn't have noticed if not for the Grace I already had roaming the room. There was a sharp pain in my back that almost made me double over and I felt it pierce my vessel's- no, my trickster- heart. I winced, hissing, but the pain was already fading and being replaced. I had barely managed to realize I had an arrow in my back before I suddenly found myself relaxing. I caught sight of a flash of white wings above through a hole in the ceiling before my Grace noticed a familiar presence in the basement.

I almost fell over at the sense of urgency that filled me. I found the stairs and made my way down to the basement, my Grace focusing on a single being.

I had never seen anyone look so hot while trying to shake cobwebs out of their hair.

"Hot," I heard myself say, my filter failing me for a second.

Apollo jumped so high he nearly hit the low hanging ceiling of the basement. He whipped around, only relaxing when he saw that it was me, "oh, it's just you, Lokes. Jeez, don't creep up on me like that."

I placed my Archangel sword back into its scabbard and walked forward until I was standing right in front of him. Now that I was more focused on them, I could see that his golden eyes seemed to have sunsets surrounding the edges of his irises.

I was new to the whole flirting thing -well, unless you count the memories that I no longer have- but I made my best attempt, "you're really hot."

He stared at me for a second before shrugging, "well, I'm the sun god so-"

"Apollo," I frowned, "not that kind of hot, the other kind."

"I'm actually a little cold, but-"

"Apollo, I'm trying to flirt with you."

"Oh," he paused before his eyes widened a bit, "oh. Um, why?"

I rolled my eyes; my vessel was shorter than Apollo was, so I had to stand on my tiptoes to reach, but I used my hands to pull his head down to mine and pressed my lips against his, pleased to find that his lips were as warm as the rest of him. He stiffened, but quickly relaxed, and I moved away to judge his response, my heart beating like a hummingbird's in my chest.

His feelings were a mess, confusion one of the strongest. I didn't even need to be able to sense emotions to know, for his emotions flickered quickly across his face before he gave me one of his bright grins, the sort that any sane person would have immediately reached for their sunglasses upon seeing. I blame it on the fact that the guy literally radiates sunshine.

Finally, his confusion gave way to relief and he covered the short distance between us quickly. He was a lot less hesitant than I had been, one hand coming to rest behind my neck and the other on my waist. Perhaps it was the fact that it had been about 100 years since the last time he'd kissed anyone, but he swiped his tongue across my bottom lip in an attempt to skip right to French and I happily obliged. He moved the hand on my waist up to my back as he shifted his balance-

I hissed in pain as his hand hit the arrow. Apollo froze, backing off immediately, much to my disappointment.

"Come now, Apollo," a familiar voice laughed from the stairs, "surely you appreciate my little gift?"

"You shot him," Apollo growled at the realization and at the appearance of the other archer, his eyes snapping onto the other pagan.

"Who cares?" I complained, trying to gain his attention again, "Apollo, we were kind of in the middle of something?"

"What did you do, Eros?" Apollo stepped away from me, glaring daggers at the winged pagan who was lounging on the stairs.

"Poseidon wants the truce back up, but you two were taking too long to get to it already. Since Odin has nothing left on Loki, he wanted to make sure Loki would have no objections," Eros smirked and shrugged, "Ares is trying to win his way back into Olympus, and Poseidon was already sending me to do this job, so Ares led you both here. And guess who fell for it? Don't worry, Apollo; that angel, Castiel? The one who threatened to smite you should you ever so much as look at Loki wrong? We've ensured that he and his Hunter are..."

Eros spun one of his arrows in his hand, smug smirk on his face, "...occupied."

"Apollo," I said, stepping towards him, hurt expression on my face, "don't you love me?"

Apollo looked pained: his mouth opening to speak, deciding against it and shutting his mouth, and then repeating the whole thing again.

"Yeah, Apollo," Eros grinned, "don't you love him?"

"Lokes," Apollo turned his eyes towards me as his back hit the wall, "come on, Lokes, you're not thinking straight right now."

"Pretty sure I'm thinking _**gay**_ right now."

Eros started cracking up.

"That's not funny, Lokes," Apollo told me, his breath hitching as I pressed against him.

"Eros is laughing," I purred.

"C'mon, Apollo," Eros complained, wiping a tear from his eye from his laughing fit, "100 years of nothing? I've set everything up so perfectly for you! You're not going to just waste all of my hard work, are you?"

"Lokes, I love you," Apollo told me, making my chest swell with happiness, "I really do, but I'm not going to- gods, Lokes, I've been on the end of one of those arrows before. It never ends well-"

"Don't tell me that I'll have to shoot you too!" Eros complained, his bow materializing in his hand, "just like you, Apollo! I do something nice for you and you just refuse it!"

"Loki is originally from the Christian religion," Apollo straightened up a bit, a sense of victory surrounding him, "most of them don't believe in premarital sex. We can't do anything at all because it would be against his religion."

"Nice try, but everybody knows Loki never had any qualms about that. Besides, we have to get you two married first anyways," Eros snickered, "I'm sure he doesn't mind. Do you Loki?"

"No qualms here," I agreed with a smirk, "pretty sure I haven't been exactly _**low-key** _ about that fact."

Apollo took a deep breath, even though as a pagan he didn't really need to breath at all, and I felt his emotions go from turmoil to strong determination. He moved forward slowly, one hand cupping my cheek as the other moved under my shirt and up to my neck; his fingers moved carefully down my neck until finding my spine, where they pressed down.

My breath hitched as he leaned his head down towards mine.

Instead of kissing me, like I expected, he moved his fingers quickly down my spine. I went limp immediately, as if he had hit an off switch; the hand he had had against my cheek quickly moved to support me as my entire body went limp and fell against him. Before I could even comprehend the fact that he knew about the fact that running his hand down my spine would temporarily freeze my Grace and, consequently, me, he had leaned me against some nearby boxes and made his bow materialize.

Apollo and Eros stared each other down, bows aimed at each other, daring each other to make a move.

Eros' grin grew slowly as he stared at Apollo, "go ahead and shoot, Sunny, I've got all day. Do you?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Apollo growled out, "unlike a mortal, I can keep my bow drawn back for as long as I need to."

Eros shifted his eyes away from Apollo, head moving as if trying to see over Apollo's shoulder; a wicked smile crossed his face, "about time you showed up, Ares. I was running into a bit of trouble here."

Apollo swiveled, firing his arrow into the empty wall behind him.

Eros' smile turned into a smirk as his fingers loosened on the arrow, "sike."

Apollo went down hard, leaning against the wall for support as the arrow hit him in the back. His face twisted in pain, but his features were already beginning to relax, "wait, Eros, wait! If Loki agrees to the marriage, even without your arrows messing with our minds, will you allow me to try to get him to agree?"

Eros paused, thinking Apollo's offer over. Apollo, meanwhile, had his eyes kept shut, as if this would counter the effects of Eros' arrows.

"Alright, fine," Eros said, "I'll give you tomorrow until midnight. Anytime after that, I'm interfering."

"And Castiel and Dean? What did you do to them?"

"I didn't use any arrows on those two lovebirds," Eros rolled his eyes, "I didn't need to. I simply pushed them in the right direction."

Apollo nodded, "fine, then. I agree to your terms."

Eros snapped his fingers.

* * *

My head hurt. A lot.

I opened my eyes with a groan, confused when I found myself laying on the stone floor of a basement, light filtering down from holes in the ceiling.

"Loki!" warm hands helped me up into a sitting position and I squinted up at Apollo.

"I remember kissing you," I paused, unsure if I had, but I most definitely was sure that at some point I had kissed the pagan, "why do I remember kissing you?"

"Maybe some memories got through the lock?" Apollo offered.

"Yeah, maybe," I cut off as he helped me to my feet, "yeah, that must be it. Agh, did we run into Dionysus again? My head is killing me."

"I think I would have noticed if we had gone drinking with Dionysus again," Apollo said, letting me lean on him as he helped me up the stairs.

"No, I came here and then... Ares and Eros! They were here, I followed their scent!"

"They ran off; I followed them here too," Apollo said, pausing as we finally got out of the basement. He looked relieved to be out of it, "what else do you remember?"

"I walked in and then..." I checked to make sure I still had my blade, relieved when I discovered that I still had it, "I don't remember anything after walking in."

Apollo stared at me for a second with a frown before he wiped the frown off his face.

"I can walk by myself," I assured him; he stepped back and I took a second to right myself before walking towards the door, "how long was I out?"

"Half an hour, maybe?"

I opened the door, relieved to see the Hunters lingering on the outskirts of the yard, looking bored but fine. A part of me had been worried that the two pagans may have targeted them.

Speaking of Hunters, it seemed that Dean and Cassie still hadn't made an appearance.

No matter, they'll probably turn up soon enough.

And, by dawn, they did. Looking a little flustered and glancing at each other every now and then, but otherwise looking okay.


	36. Chapter 36

(I don't own Supernatural. At 6,343 words, this is the longest chapter by far. I dedicate this chapter to Jayy. Do you remember Eros being in the last chapter -chapter 35-? If not, you may have missed it. This is chapter 36. -this is also me trying to help people not skip chapters by accident.)

The morning started off with the smell of bacon.

Always a wonderful thing to wake up to.

Dean and Castiel had gotten back at the crack of dawn, so I expected that Dean would still be asleep, but the eldest Winchester was already awake and digging in. The mound of bacon on his plate almost hid him from view.

"Good morning, Lokes!" Apollo practically sang, swooping in and delivering to me a plate heaped with food. The pancakes had been drowned in so much syrup that they were in a bronze bowl; the bowl was on a large bronze plate, surrounded by a moat of sausage and bacon, with ambrosia flavoring having already been sprinkled onto everything, "bam, breakfast in bed!"

"Wha-" I stared at the food in shock, already drooling as I picked up a piece of bacon and shoved it in my mouth, "oh, holy mother of sugar, this is amazing!"

Urged on by the taste, I stuffed several pieces of bacon into my mouth, though I wasn't the only angel to be shoving handfuls of food into my mouth, since Castiel had already mowed down half of his breakfast.

"Apollo made breakfast!" Sera chimed from the table, following my example and shoving a handful of food into her mouth.

"Table manners! You would think you were all raised by wolves!" Cassandra scolded us, glaring first at Dean, then Sera, then me, "is Sam the only one who has any table manners whatsoever?"

We all stared at Sam, who looked up from his laptop when he noticed everybody staring at him, having been chewing on a piece of bacon, "what?"

"Loophole! I'm on the floor!" I told Cassandra from my bed of blankets on the floor, stuffing both a sausage link and several pieces of bacon in my mouth at once. Cassandra gave me The Look and I quickly picked up my plastic fork.

"How uncivilized of you all," I said, scolding Dean, Sera, and Castiel, "savages, the whole lot of you."

Castiel looked ashamed, though with his mouth full of food he looked more like a chipmunk preparing for winter.

Apollo looked around at all the happy beings stuffing their faces and I felt a sense of pride radiate from him as he piled up his own plate and came over to sit next to me, "how'd you sleep?"

"Great," I said, closing my eyes in pure bliss as I tasted the pancakes, "mmmm, this is greater. How'd you sleep?"

"Great as well," Apollo beamed one of his sunshine smiles and I had to look back at my food because it was too bright for my eyes, "did you know that, to propose, people used to throw an apple at the person they wanted to marry and if it was a yes said person would catch the apple?"

"Well, I know now," I said, filing the information away for later. The topic brought up memories of yesterday's conversation with Artemis, and suddenly it wasn't just because of his bright smile that I couldn't seem to bring myself to look the pagan in the eyes, so I masked that fact by continuing to dig into my food.

"I was thinking maybe... maybe we could-" Apollo hesitated when Castiel's gaze instantly snapped onto the pagan, but the pagan flashed me a charming grin anyways, "I was thinking maybe I could get the sun chariot down here and we could take a trip to Virginia Beach. They've got this one shop on the boardwalk that has this machine that makes something called saltwater taffy and it is to die for."

"Taffy?" I glanced up from my breakfast, surprised by the offer, "okay, sounds cool-"

"Doesn't the sun chariot need to be in the sky to be the sun?" Castiel spoke up, glaring at the pagan.

"Naw," Apollo waved his hand dismissively, "I've been on extended vacation for the last century, so if that was true this would have been a problem sooner. The other religions keep it covered."

"And what if they all go on vacation?"

"Science," Apollo responded, "science keeps it going."

"Running off again?" Sam glanced up from his laptop, eyes meeting mine, "what if there's something somebody really needs to tell everybody? Something that they should probably tell everybody before leaving?"

I looked away first, feeling full now as I poked what was still left on my plate around, "um, maybe today isn't the best day for a trip."

I felt bad when I sensed how disappointed Apollo was at this news.

"You could always go," I said quickly, trying to ignore how Sam's gaze felt like it was burning a hole in me.

"It's fine," Apollo said, turning his attention to his food, "probably not the best day to go to the ocean today, anyways. It's spring right now, we could go during the summer."

Cassandra frowned, glancing at Castiel and then Sam before turning her gaze in the direction of Apollo and I; she leaned over to Sera and whispered something to her. Sera nodded and they shook hands, and then Cassandra turned her gaze back towards Apollo and I, "we may not be able to go to the beach, but the motel has a swimming pool in the back. We've never actually used a motel pool, but there's a first time for everything right?"

"Wouldn't suggest it," Dean spoke up, already almost done with his bacon mountain, "you never know with motel pools. This one time, when I was seventeen, I saw a naked old guy swimming in the pool at the motel we were at."

"Ew," Sera crinkled her nose before grinning, "Cassandra and I run into creepy guys all the time. This one time, when I was twelve, Cas was coming back from a Hunt, and there was this guy peering through our motel room window trying to catch me in my undies. I didn't even notice him, but when Cas showed up and saw him, she got so angry! She'd only been threatening him for five seconds and he'd peed his pants cause he was so scared."

"Probably didn't help that I was still covered in blood from taking out the vampire coven we had been tracking," Cas (my Cas) smirked, "of course, it was also a complete accident that his nose was broken by the time was able to run off."

"I would have done more than just break his nose," I grumbled under my breath.

"What about you, Gabe?" Sam spoke up, "have any stories you could share?"

I wanted to disappear as everybody looked to me with expectant expressions.

Apollo frowned at the Winchester, glancing from Sam to me before raising his eyebrow and tilting his head slightly to the side towards where my wings should be. I gave a slight nod and looked back at my plate.

"I have one," Apollo said loudly and I shot him a grateful glance as he drew everyone's gaze towards him, "about a boy who stole half my herd of sacred cows. His name was Hermes."

* * *

"You know I could just snap my fingers and make these clean themselves. You don't have to try and clean up the mess I made," Apollo teased, walking up behind me while I was trying to clean up from breakfast, having already broken five plastic forks trying to scrape syrup off of one of the plates.

"I figured the Hunters would appreciate the traditional way better," I said, not looking away from my task, "the Maples wouldn't mind but the Winchesters don't seem like the type to appreciate their dishes floating around cleaning themselves."

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind," Apollo reached around me and tapped the plate, his chest leaning onto my back. The plate floated right out of my hands and took itself to the sink. My pagan friend snapped his fingers and the plate floated around the kitchen in a sort of military-like march, the kitchenware it passed rising up and falling in line.

"Didn't know you were a Disney princess," I responded, this time not looking at him so that he couldn't see how red my face had become. At the same time, the warmth he radiated felt nice on my back and my back didn't feel so bare (my back feels weird without my wings and the feeling has yet to fade) so I didn't move right away.

"Naw, Dean's already got that covered," Apollo said before whispering into my ear, breath warm against my neck, "we all know that Dean Winchester is a disney princess."

Dean, attention caught by the sound of his own name, -and deary me, were my eyes playing tricks or had he just been holding my brother's hand?- looked away from the tv, "what?"

"Nothing!" I answered, dropping the plastic fork in my hand into the garbage. I couldn't help but glance back to see if I could catch the Hunter and angel holding hands again.

Dean frowned, staring at us for a moment before glancing back at the tv, using the remote to turn it up a bit, "whatever. Just make sure you two keep it off the counter."

"What are you-?" when I realized that the Winchester was commenting on the close proximity between Apollo and I, I'm pretty sure my vessel's face got about fifty shades redder. I quickly stepped away from the pagan, pretending to be occupied watching the dishes flying around, "so where did the plates and bowls come from?"

Apollo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before snatching a plate that was trying to dry itself on a dish towel, "well, I had some new arrows from Hephaestus and I figured, why not?"

His hand glowed brightly as he waved his hand over the plate, turning it back into an arrow before holding it out to me. I picked up the arrow, surprised when it was a little warm as if it radiated warmth just like Apollo. The shaft was golden, the bronze arrowhead sharpened to a point, but it was the fletching that impressed me the most. The feathers were not feathers at all, but actually thin bronze made to stimulate the most perfect of fletching.

I let out a low whistle as I continued to examine it, unable to find any faults with the work, "Sunchild, you have got to get me this guy's number if this is the kind of work he's churning out. I have to place an order for... anything really! Maybe a dagger, or a cool bracelet or-"

"Or maybe a couple of rings," Apollo added, examining his nails.

"Yeah, or maybe something like..."

Apollo glanced up at me, looking about to say something before changing his mind; after I handed the arrow back to him, Apollo put the arrow into a quiver that disappeared as quickly as it reappeared, "I, uh, actually have several orders he's still working on."

"Oh, cool," I grinned, barely able to contain my interest as his quiver materialized again; one by one, the bowls and plates marched into it, turning back into arrows before retreating into the quiver, "what kind of things is he working on for you?"

"Oh," he leaned on the counter, a small smile appearing on his face, "top secret project. He's been working on it for quite a while for me. I can't accept anything less than perfect."

"What is it?" I picked up the quiver once all the arrows had found their way back into it, "a new bow?"

"More important than a bow." Apollo's smile seemed to become a tad bit sad and he turned towards the counter, walking over to it and making sure all the dishes/arrows were accounted for, "much more important than a bow."

"A new mansion?"

"No," Apollo shook his head, turning back around to face me.

"A palace?"

"Nope."

"How about some sort of temple? Pagans like temples, right?"

Apollo let out a sharp laugh, "I'm not going to tell you what it is, Lokes. That's why it's top secret."

"So it is a temple?"

"It's not a temple."

"Okay," I frowned, still trying to figure out what it may be that was so important to him, "so if one of them is top secret, then what are the other ones?"

"Oh, they're top secret too. They're done already, since they didn't take him as long as the project I've had him working on."

"Are they more important?"

"Not as much, no. They are still pretty important, though."

"Will you ever tell me what they are?"

"Eventually I'll you show you all of them," Apollo promised, and I handed him his quiver, which dematerialized in his hands.

"Is it a new sun chariot?"

"Lokes! Stop guessing!"

"So it is a new chariot!"

"No, it's not a new chariot!" Apollo laughed, "nor a bow, nor a mansion, nor a palace, nor a temple."

"How am I supposed to stop guessing if you won't tell me what it is?"

"You'll be patient," he booped my nose and left the kitchen.

"I can be patient," I argued, turning my attention to the Hunters focused on the tv, "breakfast's been taken care of."

"Finally," Sera stood up and stretched before reaching for her bag on the nightstand, "you two said something about a bunker this morning?"

"Bunker sweet Bunker," Dean grinned in response, hopping off the edge of the bed and reaching for his bag, "I can't wait to get back."

"You're telling me," Sam said, anticipation clear in his emotions, "it's been too long."

"Least we won't have to dust," Dean pulled his jacket off of a kitchen chair, "Sunny can just snap his fingers and clean it for us?"

"Sunny can do," Apollo promised, giving the Winchester a mock salute, "you guys go on ahead, Lokes and I can take the sun chariot. I got two seats and they have our names on them."

"Why would you put your name and Gabriel's name on the seats of your sun chariot?" Castiel frowned, head tilted, while at the same time Sam scolded Dean for shirking his cleaning onto Apollo.

"Not literally, just metaphorically," Apollo explained, "got your name on it as in meant for you."

"Oh," Cassie paused, still frowning, "but if you drive the sun chariot, then what about the sun?"

"Other religions," Apollo said before pausing with a frown of his own on his face, "huh... it's been a while... but, no, I guess it would have to be on the way and that's not exactly the direction that it's traveling in. Well, curse you and your logic; not literally, don't give me that expression, Castiel. But one day soon, Lokes, me and you are going to take a day and I'll show you the view from the sun chariot."

"Maybe we might even run into Crowley on the way to the Bunker," Dean said, "he might have news on God or Lucifer."

Apollo paused, his entire eyes glowing gold for a second, taking over even the whites and pupils of his eyes; as quickly as they had glowed, they faded back to normal and my pagan friend frowned, mumbling under his breath, "I wouldn't count on it."

* * *

The bunker was more impressive than I thought it would be. If Sera pulling her camera out had any indication, than I wasn't the only one to think so, but I made sure to escape from the group before she could notice my lack of wings through the camera. I stopped when I came across a huge library but eventually continued on down one of the halls until I finally came across an indoor shooting range.

"Camera shy?"

My vessel's heart rate shot up for a second from being startled but I managed not to jump, "did you dust everything like you said you would?"

Apollo stepped up beside me and ran his hand along one of the guns on the weapons display against the back wall, "with a simple snap of my fingers, I have made this place shinier than it has ever been. Not a spec of dust in here."

"Dean will be happy that you took care of the cleaning for him," I grinned, picking up a rifle and looking down the scope in the direction of the target at the far end of the room.

"Not sure if I quite like being underground," Apollo glanced at the ceiling as I put the gun back; I could sense the slight amount of claustrophobia that he felt and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze with my hand as I passed him.

"Tell me about it," I said, making sure I had put the gun back right before I turned around, "it's nice, but I don't know if I could cope with living underground."

"Yeah," Apollo nodded, glancing at the shooting targets, "it's been a while since I've been able to use my bow, but I wouldn't want to use arrows on paper targets."

"You any good with guns, Legolas?"

We both glanced towards the doorway at the sound of the eldest Winchester's voice. Dean walked into the range, duffel bag on his shoulder, and moved towards the guns.

"Give me a bow any day," Apollo said, shaking his head as we watched the Winchester move some of the guns in the bag onto the stand, "go- lord of archery, not lord of guns. I can still use them pretty well, but I'd rather have a bow."

Dean shrugged, zipping the duffel back up once he had moved the guns that he wanted to move, "quieter too, I bet."

"Did Castiel send you down here to make sure we weren't doing anything he would disapprove of?" Apollo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"Nope," Dean said, but my Archangel hearing picked up the small rise in his heartbeat that indicated lying, "I just came down to put some guns away."

"Uh-huh," Apollo's smirk grew, "just so happened to be the very range we were in."

"Yep."

"Unless, of course, he came to ask for my dear brother's hand," I felt a smirk grow on my own face, "in which case, I give you my absolute permission to sweep my brother right off his feet. Can't wait for little nephews or nieces."

The mortal's face flushed deep red and he spluttered indignantly, "I'm not- we're not- I don't know where the hell you would get that idea!"

And with that said, he grabbed up his bag and stormed from the room.

"Poor guy's in denial," I said with mock sadness, grinning when Apollo laughed, "we should probably join up with the group before my dear little brother sends Sam next."

"I guess," Apollo said, a tinge of disappointment crossing his emotions.

"Speaking of Sam," I said before Apollo could walk out the door; the pagan paused and looked back for me to go on, "I almost forgot to say thank you... you know, for getting everybody's attention off of me. I... I'm not too sure I want them to ever know about my wings."

Apollo's expression grew serious, "they wouldn't think any less of you, Lokes."

"Pretty sure Sam does."

"I don't think so," Apollo told me after a moment of pause, "I think he's just concerned about you. You have a way of growing on people, Lokes, no matter how you meet them."

"Maybe," I shrugged.

Apollo hesitated in the doorway, "um, Lokes.. this is going to sound a little weird, but I have a... a question to ask you."

"Okay."

Another second of hesitation before he worked up the courage to speak, though he still looked unsure of himself, "Loki, will you-"

"Hey, Cas is looking for you two," Sam poked his head in, "uh, our Cas, I mean, not Cassandra. What are you guys doing in the shooting range?"

Apollo seemed to deflate a little.

"Told you he would be sending Sam next," I cast Apollo a grin, but he didn't seem able to return it for some reason, "what was it you wanted to ask me?"

"Um, I forgot," Apollo said, and I watched him leave, confused at why he had lied about forgetting the question.

"Does he know?" Sam asked after a moment, once Apollo was gone.

"Yes," I said honestly, "yeah, he knows."

"Why did you tell him but not the Maples?"

I found myself able to hold the youngest Winchesters gaze long enough to find the strength to answer. The words 'because I did it for him' died on my tongue and I said something completely different instead, "Poseidon made him watch while my wings were chopped off. I didn't have to tell him anything."

Whoa, little self, didn't mean to give away that much.

Sam, fortunately, didn't comment on the dose of TMI I had just given him, changing the topic instead, "are you coming?"

I followed him back in the direction of the library, keeping pace with him despite his longer strides (I had enough stamina to speed walk for as long as I wanted to), "do you know what it feels like to have something so important taken from you?"

"I lost my soul once."

"Hmm," I tried to think what it would be like to have a soul and then lose it, "I wouldn't know what that's like to lose a soul; archangels don't have souls, just Grace."

"I wouldn't know what it would be like to lose wings," Sam responded.

"Guess not," I shrugged.

"I'm sorry, for, you know," Sam said, "yelling at you. And getting mad."

I glanced at the Winchester, stopping in the doorway to the library. The youngest Winchester often had a small bit of anger in him at all times, and I didn't blame him for getting angry at me over the whole wing thing, "you don't need to apologize. Really. Hell, there's a lot of things I've done that you have every right to be angry at me about. Now I don't know about you, but it has been several hours since I had something sugary and I could eat a whole cotton candy monster. You know, like the one from that one live action scooby doo movie? I love scooby doo; scooby and shaggy are mortals after my own heart."

A smile appeared on Sam's face, "you practically overdosed on sugar this morning."

"I'm a Trickster, Big Bird, we have a fast metabolism."

"I thought you could go days without sugar."

"Call it a craving."

We had been about to go our separate ways into the library when Apollo pulled Sam aside, asking to use the Hunter's laptop. I left the two and went to find Cas(my brother, Cas), who was none too discreetly watching the Hunter he had a fancy for who was currently bent over to grab a book off the bottom shelf to show to Cassandra.

"I see you have learned the fine art of butt appreciation for the mortal you have chosen," I grinned, leaning against the table my brother was sitting on.

"I have no concerns over Dean's butt," Castiel responded in his usual gruff/serious voice.

"Does he have the booty?"

"I see no pirate treasure-"

"The correct answer was supposed to be 'he dooooooooooo.' And of course you have no concerns over his butt, it's a wonderful butt, that's why you're staring at it. I bet that's the result of all the running around they do."

"I am not looking at Dean's butt."

"Of course not, you're appreciating it," I said, putting on a pouty face as Dean found the book he was looking for and straightened up to show it to Cassandra, "aw, he stood up. Well, you can still see it, brother, so don't get too sad. Who is Samuel Colt and why is his journal in the library?"

"He was a Hunter," Castiel responded, eyes shifting onto the book cover that our angelic eyes could read from here, "he created a gun that could kill anything."

"Anything?"

"Almost anything."

"So, what was so important that you sent both Winchesters down to check on Apollo and I?" I asked my brother, hoping my annoyance didn't show in my voice, "surely it wasn't just so I could come down here and assist you in staring at your boyfriend's butt."

"Dean is not my boyfriend and I was not staring at his butt."

"So you didn't sleep with him last night?"

Castiel's face immediately went beet red. His wings flapped nervously, "of course not."

I didn't call him out on it, merely giving him a shit eating grin, "well, I guess you did just call me down here to help you stare at your boyfriend's butt."

"Don't stare at Dean's butt."

"I'm sorry, is that an 'Only Castiel' zone?"

His wings puffed up a little in irritation.

"Okay, okay," I laughed.

"Besides, shouldn't you be staring at your little pagan pet's butt instead of Dean's?" Cas huffed.

My grin was gone in an instant, "and we're back to this again. He's my friend, Cassie, so learn to deal with it."

"They insult our Father's name with their claims that they are gods! I've given you time and time again, because you don't have your memories, but you can't seem to get it through your head! Pagans are worse than demons, Gabriel, and I'm not going to just watch you throw your existence away just because you think one of them is hot!" he gave me an exasperated look, and I felt myself snap at his wording, "so yes! This again! Because you don't seem to understand-"

"No, you don't understand!" I snapped at him, sick and tired at his behavior towards the subject. My heart pounded and I let my trickster power flood my Grace, purposely coiling my Grace around my brother's, ignoring the pang of hurt when his Grace recoiled from the mix of Trickster and Grace that was my own Grace. I wasn't even sure where the words came from but they flooded from my mouth all the same, and I didn't even notice that I was speaking in Enochian, " _in case you've forgotten, your dear brother Gabriel is a pagan too! And I'm worse than the whole damn lot of them, Castiel_!"

I pointed at Apollo, who looked up from Sam's laptop with a small spike of fear at being dragged into an argument between two angels (well, an Archangel and an angel, but I'm not sure I care at this point what we are), but I wasn't planning on dragging him into another one of my messes, " _I may not have all my pages in order in my brain book, but I sure as hell know that my so called family weren't the ones who have been here for me in the past few millennia or hell-if-care-whatever time span it's been since Dad ditched everybody! You know who was? Pagans! You know who didn't ditch everybody who cares about them? Pagans! You know who didn't watch their own son stab their other son to death and sit there and write a fucking book about it!? Pagans! So, Chuck can take- t-the insults to his name and shove it up his ass_!"

" _Pagans, you kill one of their kids and nine times out of ten they'll come storming down raining vengeance on your ass, but the great and wonderful Dad that is Chuck just sits there and writes it down! Bet he probably has a twitter profile or something somewhere! Laughing his ass off! Just watched one of my kids stab the other one, lol, hashtag kids will be kids_!"

It occurred to me that Castiel wasn't the one I was actually mad at by this point, but I was on a roll, " _hell, I bet Dad even recorded it! Whenever he feels down I bet he just pops it in his tv and has a good, old laugh_!"

 **...**

 **"A mistletoe dart?" Hephaestus gave me an odd look as he looked up from the mistletoe I had given him to work with, "what the Tartarus would you want with a dart made of mistletoe? Look, Loki, I have a lot of things that would work a lot better as a weapon than a bit of mistletoe."**

 **I laughed, imagining what Baldur's face will look like. Apollo and I had both foreseen him having things thrown at him as he tests his limits, and I knew it would be the perfect time for me to strike. I would give the dart to Hodr. Baldur will want us to try? Oh, I'll try.**

 **"Yes, Hephaestus. I want it made of mistletoe."**

...

I could feel all the fight go out of me. All my anger went up in smoke.

" _Dad... Chuck... Cassie, maybe you're right. Pagans are all bad, according to you, right? Lucifer hinted at something similar, last time I saw him_ -" -okay, so maybe I read a little bit of the book where I died, so sue me- "- _but you know, it's me. I'm the worst one of all of them. Zeus may not have given a shit when Baldur died, but at least he wasn't the one that killed him. I could have spent the last century happy, but instead I went and killed Baldur because I wanted to get back at the rest of the Norse pantheon for locking me up because they didn't know I was Fenrir, that I wasn't going to end up eating anybody,"_ I pulled my Grace back to myself _, "pagans say the angels and archangels are horrible, archangels and angels say pagans are horrible. And here I am. Not only am I both Archangel and pagan, but I'm the worst one out of both groups_."

Castiel's lip wobbled, his wings shook. He seemed confused, his Grace moving towards me before retreating, remembering the foreign feeling of my 'tainted' Grace, wondering if it should seek comfort or give comfort but not wanting to get anywhere near me, "Gabriel..."

I shoved past him, pausing at the door to the first room I came across. I looked back to give Castiel a withering glare, " _I'm glad Poseidon chopped my wings off, Castiel! Because now I'm even more of a pagan than before! Having second thoughts about wanting me back in the family now that you know I'm more pagan than Archangel?_ "

I slammed the door so hard the walls shook then I turned around and locked the door, trickster power retreating from my Grace.

After a second I moved my Grace outside the room, coming across feelings of shock from my brother and confusion from the mortals (not surprising, my whole rant had been in enochian). The only other pagan in the Bunker, meanwhile, merely had an overwhelming amount of frustration and I could a hear a thud from outside the door that sounded suspiciously similar to somebody dropping their head onto their desk in the universal sign of giving up on everything.

It occurred to me, then, that I had just poured my heart and soul out to my brother in a way and with the sort of personal thoughts and information that should have never seen the light of day.

I plopped down into a corner, knees pulled up to my chest with my arms wrapped around my knees. It wasn't like I ever needed to leave this room and face him again, right? And good lord, everybody else had just seen me snap. Just had to rebuild all the masks back up that had been torn down in the past day or two or maybe it's been going on for a couple of weeks or maybe it all started when I picked up that damn book at Becky's. Yeah, that's it. I can just stay here, right here, forever.

There was a knock on the door, light and familiar,"Gabe? Can I come in?"

"No."

"Gabe."

"Bite me."

"Gabe, you're in Sam's room."

"Tell him he's going to have to get a new one, because I'm not coming out."

"...What brought this all on?"

"It added up," I admitted, "go away, Cassandra."

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

There was hushed whispering outside the door before there came a different knock at the door, "Lokes? Sam's saying he doesn't want another Archangel throwing a fit in his room."

I let out a half-hearted 'go away' and remained where I was.

"...Can I come in?"

"I locked it."

"I can phase through, if you want me to come in."

"Okay."

Apollo stepped through the door and looked around the room. As soon as he had seen me he walked over and sat down beside me, "you okay? I didn't understand the language you were speaking, but you were pretty upset."

"I'm sorry."

He frowned, "sorry? For what?"

"I..." last chance to change your mind, little self. No? Okay, here goes, "...I ran into Artemis. S-she told me how you really died. And why."

He stiffened, "Artemis? What did she tell you?"

"A lot," I admitted, "she told me a lot. She told me you were lying to me, and then she gave me the truth to the lie."

Apollo forced himself to relax, but even so his tension only eased a little bit.

"Why didn't you tell me about the truce? About the.."

"Whole marriage thing?" Apollo asked, shifting and leaning his back against the wall, "it didn't seem like the sort of greeting you would have appreciated. Hey, amnesiac who doesn't know who I am, I'm actually supposed to be married to you right now."

I let out a dry laugh.

"Well," Apollo let out a defeated sigh as he pulled something out of the pocket of his pants, "I was planning something dramatic, you like dramatic things, maybe take you to a candy store and do it there, but I guess Artemis pretty much ruined the surprise of the whole thing."

I stared at him in confusion as he stood up just to get down on one knee, still holding the odd little box. It seemed a little weird to stand up only to get down near the ground again.

"Loki, Gabriel, Trickster, Lokes," Apollo said, opening the box, "will you marry me?"

Everything seemed to stop. My brain stopped working, my Trickster heart skipped a beat, and I'm pretty sure my Grace all dropped to the ground.

"What?"

"I... I did it right? I mean, I googled Norse first, but I don't think even Dionysus has something that could keep us drunk for a month, so then I googled Christian tradition-"

"Yes."

"What?"

"I said yes."

"Really?" I sensed his own heart skip a beat, "I mean, really? It's really a yes?"

I nearly made him fall over with how hard I tackled him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. I was nearly flooded with relief, realizing he really wasn't angry at me or blaming me for his death, "yes, Sunchild! I said yes!"

"You didn't even look at the ring!"

"Still a yes!"

Apollo's happiness became so large that it was impossible for me to distinguish my own, booming happiness from his own. The ring dematerialized to be brought back later and I was happy to discover that Apollo's lips were as warm as the rest of him.

Problem was, when the kisses moved from mouth to neck, we weren't exactly quiet.

The sudden pounding on the door made us both startle. Sam's voice sounded a bit angry as he voiced his complaint, "hey! Come on, guys! Not in my room! Take it somewhere else!"

"Oh, no you don't!" I heard Cassandra telling him off, "I have fifty bucks riding on those two getting together and you are not costing me my bet!"

"No! Don't listen to her! Break it up, Sammy! Break them up!" I heard Sera yell, "if her fifty bucks isn't the only thing riding then I have to pay up!"

"Surprised your brother doesn't have anything to add in," Apollo smiled against my neck, "what exactly did you yell at him earlier?"

"Well, you heard her," I smirked, moving back a bit and pulling my shirt up and off, "if Cassandra's fifty dollars isn't the only thing riding, then she'll lose her bet."

Apollo laughed as the pounding increased when my shirt hit the door, "sometimes I swear you act as if you never lost your memories at all."

"NOT IN MY ROOM!"

"Sorry, Sammy, we're a little busy at the moment!"

"Stop calling me Sammy!"

(There, Jayy, your ship is made canon and I had to write romance. I had to write romance, Jayy. But no, Jayy didn't want subtle hints, Jayy wanted romance scenes. What the hell, Jayy?)


	37. Chapter 37

(I don't own Supernatural. And Hectatess, your reviews never fail to make my day. ^_^ I looked up what kablooie meant, and now I'm a little confused... is... is kablooie a good thing? By the way, everybody, if you don't remember Apollo proposing to Gabriel, you probably missed a chapter. This is chapter 37. By the way, I just finished binge watching all of season 12 on Netflix: they're fine. Yep, everybody's fine. Nope, definitely okay. (Cries in denial))

The ring was gold, with an emerald on top and and an inscription on the bottom. I kept reading and rereading the inscription with a grin on my face at the quote, 'I do what I want.'

I waggled my fingers, pleased when the emerald caught the golden glow that always radiated from Apollo, something that wasn't really all that prominent until you were in a dark room with him. I liked that he glowed, since being in the dark makes me remember being tied down as Fenrir.

The guest room in the Bunker that Apollo had teleported us to -being yelled at by a human moose is kind of a mood killer- was sort of bland at the moment, and I wondered what it would look like if it was my room, if I had a room. Maybe Apollo and I would share it. I glanced at the ring again and felt my grin grow.

"Would this be considered a shotgun wedding?"

"Hm?"

"We weren't exactly dating all these months."

"We've had a century or two of dating beforehand," Apollo murmured, burying his face into the crook of my neck. I leaned my chin on his head, running my hand through his hair and marveling at how soft it was.

"Do you think maybe if we try and rush them we could get a double wedding and then Dean and my brother can get married on the same day we do?"

"Mmm."

"Would that be a shotgun wedding?" I asked, "how long do you suppose they've been together-together? They're kind of secret about it, I suppose, but everybody already knows, don't you think?"

Apollo didn't respond and I glanced at him, finding that he'd fallen back to sleep. I would be surprised if he had been fully awake in the first place.

"Right, sun hasn't risen yet, I'm guessing," I said, since I couldn't really tell being underground and all, but getting Apollo awake before the sun was up was literally impossible, even though he didn't even really need sleep. Apollo mumbled something into my neck and pulled me closer to him, his arm wrapped around me still. Apparently I wasn't getting up until the sun was up either.

"So what happens now?" I asked.

"We sleep," Apollo grumbled, trying to lay back down since I was sitting up with my back against the headboard.

I laid back down, closing my eyes and pretending that the warmth on my back was from having wings instead of it actually just being Apollo's chest against my bare back. I quickly grew bored of it though, "Apollo."

"Hmm."

"You awake?"

"Mmm."

"Is that a yes?"

No response; my pagan friend- er, pagan fiancé was once more out like a light.

"Do you think anybody is up in the Bunker?"

Apollo didn't respond, though I was pretty sure he was at least half-asleep still.

"I think I'm going to get up."

Apollo sighed and rolled over, the covers pooling around his waist. I took the moment to appreciate the sight before quietly moving out of the bed and heading towards the door.

"Pants," Apollo yawned, half opening his eyes as he watched me go, "mortals. Not...often... nude... least not n'more."

"But nobody's even awake!"

"Mmm."

"Fine."

I bent over to retrieve my pants from the floor, glancing back to see Apollo already falling back to sleep. I rolled my eyes at him and ended up just grabbing my boxers instead and pulling those on before creeping out the door.

I felt a bit cold, having adjusted to Apollo's body heat, but my vessel quickly adjusted and I headed down the hall, my bare feet making a small bit of noise as I walked. My awful last few days seemed to have ended on a happy note and I kept glancing at the ring on my vessel's finger in a bit of disbelief.

The Bunker was silent, at least until I got to the kitchen. Castiel stood at the sink filling up a glass of water wearing boxers and a shirt I'm pretty sure I saw Dean wearing earlier today. His feathers were a bit ruffled, as was his hair, and he merely spared me a small glance as I opened the fridge.

"Where's Apollo?" Cassie reached forward and turned off the sink.

"Asleep," I said, shutting the fridge in disappointment at how empty it was. The Winchesters had yet to go shopping to restock it.

Castiel stood there with his hands wrapped around the glass of water like it was a lifeline, looking a tad bit miserable, "Gabriel... I am sorry. I did not stop to realize that... that you felt that way about yourself. And that you felt that way about Dad."

I sighed and motioned to a stool at the island in the kitchen. My brother sat down and I ran my hands through his feathers, setting to work on preening them for him, "I didn't mean to snap... it's been a hard last few days."

Cas nodded, sensing how I felt on the matter. It was nice, just being peaceful. His feathers were soft and dark, but his wings were a bit bare. I ran my Grace along his wings as I preened, hoping to maybe start healing some of the damage, and my brother curled his Grace around mine in gratitude.

"My wings look horrible."

"They're looking better," I told him, "you've regrown some more feathers since I first saw you again."

"Do you think?" a bit of hope chased away the dark shame he felt over the state of his wings and I grinned even though he wasn't facing me.

"Absolutely, Cassie," I said, finishing one wing and moving on to the second. I felt a ping of sorrow at the fact that I finished it quicker than I should have because of how many feathers my brother's wings lacked, "I can see some growing in."

Cas let out a laugh, stretching out the wing I wasn't working on, "I can feel them growing in."

"Ooh," I cringed in empathy, remembering what it had been like after those Hellhounds had torn my wings to shreds, back when I still had my wings, "my sympathies, brother, but I certainly don't envy you that."

It made me happy to notice that his negative emotions seemed to have mostly disappeared by this point.

"They're in much better shape than mine were during my first year being alive again," I told him, "feathers everywhere. My wings looked like I'd been thrown through a tornado."

"Really?"

I let out a short laugh, "if you don't believe me, Sera is always happy to share the videos in her camera. If you ever feel like seeing me make a fool of myself, you should ask her if she could show you the video from my first flight."

Castiel was silent for a moment before speaking, "so... you and Apollo..."

"Yeah. You and Dean?"

I saw his ears go red, "...yeah."

Back into silence we went, simply content with the peace between us.

I finished preening the second wing and took a seat beside my brother, who cast a mournful look at my back, "I'm sorry that I cannot return the favor."

"It's fine," I assured him, glancing at his glass of water, "I didn't take you for the type to get thirsty in the middle of the night."

"Oh," he almost fell over with how quickly he tried to stand up, "I forgot. I got up to get it for Dean. He gets nightmares sometimes, and usually he wakes up and goes to get a drink of water before he goes back to sleep."

"Well, go on, then," I smiled despite myself at my brother's thoughtfulness over his Hunter, "I'm fine by myself."

I could sense his reluctance at leaving, but he stood up, uncurled his Grace from mine and headed towards the door. Cassie glanced back and I cast him a smile that he hesitantly returned. The kitchen delved into silence but for the gradually receding sound of my brother's footsteps.

I waited until I heard the door close down the hall before I stretched and stood up. I was glad to see that Sam had left his laptop in the library; I had to find the charger and plug the laptop in, and then I grabbed my bag from where I had left it forgotten near the wall and pulled out the cd from the bottom of my bag. At least, I went to pull it out of my bag. It was on the other side of the bag from where I had put it, but I quickly found it anyways and put the cd into the laptop.

I was a bit worried that it might not work, but all the segments showed up and I quickly started the second one since I had already seen the first. I curled up in my chair, settling down to watch as my own voice filled the room.

"Okie-dokie, so guess we're starting segment two. Now, you'll want to listen real close with this one."

* * *

I managed to watch the second and third segment before it switched off. I had just gotten the disc back in the case and the case back in my bag when Sera walked in. When she noticed me she gave me an irritated look, though I could sense no actual irritation coming from her, "Gabe."

"Sera."

"So... are you and Apollo..."

"Together-together?" I asked, raising my left hand for her to see and waggling my fingers, "I would hope so, or else things have become quite complicated."

Cassandra had walked in just in time to hear my statement, her eyes zeroing in on the ring on my finger. She stared at me, walking towards me, before she stopped next to where I was.

"You okay? You have this weird look on your fa-" I cut off in confusion and terror as some sort of screech left her mouth that I had only ever heard uttered by Becky or teenage girls on the public bus, not at all a sound I had ever thought my dear Cassandra could make. Next thing I knew, I was being crushed -not really, but it sure as hell felt like it- as Cassandra hugged me.

"Hundred bucks!" Cassandra fortunately turned her deranged attention towards Sera (I was very concerned over what could possibly be wrong with Cassandra) and held her hand out, "hundred bucks, pay up!"

"You said the bet was only fifty bucks!" Sera screeched back, and I wondered if perhaps I should try to escape the room.

"I placed fifty on them getting together, you placed fifty on them not getting together! Now my baby's getting hitched! Hundred bucks, pay up!"

"That still doesn't make any sense! They can't get married a day after getting together!"

"Um, officially we had been together and never broke up, so technically we've been together for at least a century," I spoke up, but it seemed they were too busy arguing to notice.

"Getting married is the next step of getting together, which means my spot just doubled from fifty to a hundred!"

"The deal was fifty!"

I carefully extracted myself from the conversation and escaped back down the hall. At least, I tried to.

"Oh my God," I heard Cassandra gasp and then her hand was on my shoulder, "Gabe, what happened to your back?"

It was like the world had ended. I felt the exact moment my heart stopped before starting up again with triple its usual pace. It occurred to me that I probably should have grabbed a shirt on my way out of the room as well; it had completely bypassed my mind that such a wound of my actual form may have scarred my vessel, "what do you mean?"

"You've got... burns... and-"

"Burns? Must have happened a long time ago, I haven't gotten any burns that I can remember," I shrugged, turning around, "I should probably go get dressed."

"Right," Cassandra said, circling around me so close I felt her shirt brush against me. She stopped after only a single circle, eyes scanning my face with a slight frown on her face, "go on, then. We'll have to get you a tux. Unless you want to wear a dress. Do you want to wear a dress?"

I felt so relieved, Castiel probably sensed my relief all the way to where he was in Dean's room, "yeah, uh, I guess we're probably still thinking over all the details. Odin and Poseidon were planning it before we were, so they probably have a certain way they want it to pan out."

"Odin and Poseidon?" Cassandra frowned, "what do they have to do with anything?"

"Well, they kind of arranged the whole-"

"Arranged?" Cassandra's emotions immediately darkened.

"Well, Apollo proposed before they could make us, and I agreed to the proposal, so I guess it's a marriage that Odin and Poseidon think they arranged," I said quickly, not too sure why the idea of an arranged marriage made her so angry.

"How can Odin arrange a marriage for you?"

"Well, it was a long story, but, uh," I said, "you know, it doesn't really matter so... I'm gonna... I'm gonna go."

I quickly walked out of the room, but I picked up Cassandra saying something and paused once I had crossed a corner and was out of sight.

"I think something's wrong with his wings."

Shit.

"What do you mean, Cas?"

"Those marks were exactly where his wings where.. or at least where I think they're supposed to come out of his back."

"He said he's had them."

"Well, he didn't have them before. Something must be wrong with his wings. When I walked behind him, he didn't do that little shiver thing he used to do whenever we accidentally stepped through them."

I quickly resumed walking, hoping not to run into-

Dean's door opened as I passed, nearly ramming me in the nose. I tried to swerve around, but ended up tackling him down instead. He gave me a dirty look and went to yell at me, but I quickly shushed him and scurried off of him.

"Why the hell are you-"

"I said shush!" I hissed, glancing back the way I came.

He was instantly alert, reaching back and pulling a knife out of a holster I hadn't seen on the leg of a table near his door on the inside of the room.

"No, no danger," I said, glancing back, "but if either of the Maples come looking for me asking questions about wings, say nothing to them."

His tension eased somewhat as he relaxed a little, "what, did Sam just tell them about you not having any wings? I figured he had told them first."

My gaze snapped onto him, "what?"

"You know, the whole wing thing," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "I thought he had already told them."

"He fucking what?"

"Sam said- where are you going?" Dean frowned,

* * *

The mortal's door was thrown open with such force that it cracked off the wall and left a dent. He jackknifed up in bed, barely rolling out of bed in time to miss my punch. It was probably best that I missed, since I heard the metal bed frame snap just before I watched it crumple under the force. My Grace was dark, almost black, and it swirled around the room in my anger, somehow managing not to tear everything down.

"Holy- What the hell!?" he gasped, staring at the result of my punch and having it occur to him what would have happened to him if he had been too slow to dodge.

"You son of a bitch," I said, turning and storming towards one of my Father's favorite mortals.

"Hey! What-" he cut off, scrambling out the door as I pulled out my sword and swung. It lodged in the metal wall where my Father's mortal had been a moment ago and I had to pause to yank it out after a couple futile tugs.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," I growled, having mostly calmed down by the time I got my sword out of the wall. I wasn't even sure why I had gotten so angry, but it was quickly fading now that there had been a lull in my thought process. My Grace, which had seemed to have gotten dark, was already quickly lightening back up until it was bright again.

"You call that a good mood?" Sam gaped, keeping track of my movements as I put my sword away, "you call trying to kill me as you being in a good mood? And when did you get an Archangel sword!?"

"I'm going back to bed," I said instead, trying to figure out why I had gotten so upset over the whole thing, "next time you figure something out, don't tell everybody."

Confusion radiated off of Sam for a moment before it was gone in an instant, his face pulling off its famous bitch face, "shit. I told Dean not to tell you that I told him."

"You may as well go ahead and tell the Maples, too," I said, figuring that may as well make up for my brief bout of anger, "save me the trouble. Cassandra's already starting to figure it out. Besides, my much happier news for everybody later should shove all the wing stuff into the background. Hell, why don't you shout it from a fucking megaphone?"

"I told you that if you didn't tell anybody then I would," Sam said, accepting the hand I offered him to help him up.

I nodded in acknowledgement and left without another word. I glanced back, watching him curse over the state of his bed, before I looked away. I closed my eyes and focused best I could before snapping my fingers, hoping that what I had tried worked. I tried to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over me and I cast a wary glance at my Grace. Nope, no darkness there. I must have imagined it.

I glanced back again, but Sam had disappeared back into his room. I took a deep breath (which doesn't help much when breathing is simply a habit you've picked up to fit in because you don't need to breath) and tried to shake the event from my mind. For a minute, I had seen him only as one of my Father's favorite mortals. Now that I had calmed down, he was back to being Sam.

"Gabe!"

I paused, looking back again.

"If you've fixed the bed, could you at least fix the wall too!?"

So I had accomplished the task of fixing the bed. I focused again, more confidant this time, and snapped.

Sam glanced at my work and gave a nod of acceptance before disappearing back into his room, slamming the door shut with an audible thud.

I glanced at my hand, marveling over the fact that I had managed to fix something, before I allowed myself to push the whole wing thing away and let a grin back onto my face. Castiel was in the kitchen, when I passed it, sitting close to Dean. The two seemed to be whispering to each other, soft smiles on their faces. If that wasn't enough to make me feel a little better, my brother radiated his calmness, not even looking up as his Grace gave mine a brief greeting before retreating back into the kitchen.

By the time I had slipped back into the room I shared with Apollo, all my anger was gone.

"Hey," the golden pagan glanced up at me, balanced on one leg as he was pulling up his jeans, a smile showing on his face, "where'd you go? I figured we could have slept in."

"I told you I was getting up," I grinned, grabbing my own jeans off the floor next to him.

"Did you?" he paused before shaking his head and straightening as he got his pants up, "I must have been asleep."

"I didn't know somebody so insistently against me walking around the Bunker nude could have been asleep."

"Now why would I be against such a thing?" Apollo leaned over and purred in my ear, pressing a kiss to my cheek before moving away to find his shirt.

"Beats me," I said sarcastically, grinning at him before looking away so I could find my own shirt while I started to pull on my pants.

There was a sudden pounding on the door. I squeaked and toppled over (oh, stop laughing at me, I had been balancing on one foot) and stumbled over, landing in a heap of limbs and denim. I let out a short cry of victory when I discovered my shirt after landing next to it.

Apollo looked torn between moving to help me or moving to get the door. I waved him off and he moved to the door and opened it.

"Hey!" Sera said cheerfully, "Apollo! Just the guy I was looking for! Cassandra wants to talk to you!"

"She does?" Apollo leaned on the door, "why?"

"Something about your proposal to Gabe."

He frowned, thinking this over, before glancing back at me, "aw, Lokes! It was supposed to be a surprise!"

"It slipped out!"

"Okay," Apollo shook his head with a small smile on his face, "where is she?"

"I wouldn't be so happy," Sera warned, "I think she's getting a lecture prepared."

Apollo's dread was so strong that I had to pause and make sure it wasn't coming from me.

"She's in the garage working on the Charger," Sera said, "besides, she's in a good mood, so I reckon you'll survive."

"I barely survived the last one," Apollo smirked, glancing back into the room. I made a wild guess at what he was looking for and grabbed the shirt that wasn't mine. He caught it easily when I tossed it to him, winking at me before leaving. I wished him good luck as his footsteps faded down the hall; anybody on the receiving end of one of Cassandra's lectures will need all the luck they can get.

"He's got nice abs," Sera said.

"Yes, he does indeed," I agreed, pulling my shirt on, "Cassandra doesn't have any lectures for me, does she?"

"I think you're safe."

"Thank Dad," I said, somehow managing to get to my feet.

"Wait, on second thought, she might have said something about talking to you about something... something about you and Sam?"

That snitch had gone and tattled on me to Cassandra. I apologized, didn't I? I hadn't meant to get so angry. On second thought, had I apologized?

"What about me and Sam?"

"Cas didn't say, but she didn't seem too happy about that part. She'll probably be back in a good mood after talking to Apollo; she's really excited about the wedding. Cas says she can't wait to be a mother-in-law."

"I don't know what I would do if she wasn't," I said, personally surprised that I cared what she thought about the whole thing, but it was true; if Cassandra hadn't been happy about the idea, then I'm not sure if I would be able to go through with it, "oh, jeez. I'm getting married."

"From our little box angel to a soon to be married man," Sera sighed in agreement, "they grow up so fast!"

"Box angel?"

"Don't even try denying it."

"I'm not. To be honest, I kind of miss my box," I smirked, following Sera out into the hallway; not that I would give up any of what I have now to go back to that time. It was hard to believe that it had only been a year or two ago that I had been homeless, alone, and confused, with nothing but fake memories to get by on. Now I had... well, I guess I had a family again, "I'm surprised my brother hasn't put up a fight over the whole thing. He seemed pretty chill about it this morning."

"He was pretty torn up after your guys' argument yesterday," Sera said, leading the way towards the library, "but he seems to be in a good mood today. You didn't hear it from me, but his good mood probably stems from spending the night with Dean in Dean's room. Those two are still pretending nothing's going on, but we're all waiting for them to announce it."

"Knowing those two, they'll probably never get to it," I rolled my eyes.

"You never know," Sera shrugged, "I mean, you haven't really been around all that often anymore to know them-" -she trailed off- "-Um, so, are you going to wear a tux or a dress? You'd probably look alright in a dress, whether you're in dude form or chick form."

"Like this? It would have to be custom made so that it doesn't fall down all the time. Besides, I don't really like dresses other than that one Merlin gave me that I was wearing as Crow."

"You could turn into Crow. That one dress you were wearing as Crow might look alright."

"Merlin gave me that one, so I don't think Apollo would really appreciate it."

"You've got a point," Sera frowned, and I almost ran into her when she stopped walking without warning, "do you have a tux?"

"I have..." I trailed off, realizing that the dress I was thinking about was stained with blood from when my wings were chopped off. At least, I figure that it's probably ruined, since I wasn't wearing it by the time I regained consciousness, "well, no, I don't think so. This is all kind of weird."

"What is?"

"Talking about tuxedos and dresses. The idea that I'm going to get married."

"Yeah, kind of is," Sera turned around and entered the library and I followed her.

"If it makes you feel any better, Cassandra and I made a bet over when Dean and Castiel will make their relationship public. Sam joined in the bet, and he's winning so far."

"And none of you invited me into the bet?"

"What bet?"

"Oh, Cassandra placed a bet on me and Apollo getting together," I waved my hand dismissively and Dean turned his attention back to Cas.

"Oh, Gabriel!" Cassie's Grace curled around mine in greeting and I returned the greeting in turn, "can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," I said, following him to a part of the library a bit always from where Dean and Sera were (and Sam, seeing as he had just walked in and sat down at the table with his laptop). There was no curiosity from Dean, so I figured whatever Cas had to say had already been said to Dean.

"Have you been listening?" Cas asked me, his excitement almost enough to have me bouncing up and down despite the fact that the only sign of his delight was the small smile on his face.

"Listening?"

"Oh," a short pause in his excitement though it didn't last long, "Dean calls it angel radio."

"Angel radio?" that hadn't been covered in the first three segments of the disc I had been watching.

"Here," Cas began to reach his hands towards my head but paused, "may I?.. you seem to have it blocked."

"Have at it."

He pressed his fingers to my temples, excitement replaced momentarily by focus and concentration. It was like a switch had gone off in my head (probably was, he said I had something blocked) and suddenly my head didn't seem quite so empty. A flurry of voices bombarded me, and I sorted them to the side almost as if by instinct. Angel radio? This was no radio, this was more like I had just tuned into a hive mind somehow made up of individuals. It was unnatural yet familiar at the same time, a feeling I've grown used to over the past year or so.

"Wow," I said outloud, blinking as Castiel moved his hands away but the voices were still there. Being _tuned in_ (ha, get it? Tuned in? Because it's Angel _Radio_? No? Oh, shush, I'm the most hilarious Archangel you'll ever meet) held the same sort of comfort I got just having my Grace near Cassie's Grace.

Much like Castiel, the angels were in a flurry of excitement. Something big was going on.

"Do you hear what they're saying?" Castiel asked, eyes bright, Grace swirling around as if his excitement couldn't possibly be kept to only his vessel.

At first it was more like a buzz, all the voices combining to the point where I barely knew whether I was thinking or I had just latched onto something somebody's said. After a couple moments, probably thanks to some sort of subconscious memory, I was able to block myself off, like an outside looking in, and after a minute I was able to differentiate all the voices to individuals whose names I did not know (well, didn't exactly remember. Definitely the fault of amnesia, not just from having so many siblings) and was able to notice that the excitement of a couple had grown when they'd sensed me. Whatever they had been in a buzz about was replaced by a new one as the news spread almost instantly. I felt almost dizzy at all the attention as minds brushed against my own as if by doing so was the only confirmation possible.

 _Gabriel!_

 _Gabriel?_

 _Gabriel's alive?_

 _He's alive!_

 _Thought Lucifer killed him?_

 _No, he joined Lucifer when Lucifer left!_

 _No, he didn't!_

An angry buzz around those last two that spread to a few others. I turned away from their argument.

 _Is he coming home?_

 _Gabriel?_

 _He was here a second ago!_

 _Hello?_

 ** _Hello?_ **

My response only served to send them into more of an excitement.

 _Are you coming home?_

 _Everything's going to be okay again!_

 _Why did you leave?_

 _Where were you?_

 _Gabriel's alive!_

 _You're coming home, right?_

 _Of course he's coming home! Everyone's coming home!_

 _ **Everyone?**_

 _Dad's back!_

 _He brought Amara!_

 _Michael's okay!_

 _Lucifer is back! Dad brought him back to Heaven!_

 _I don't trust Lucifer or Amara..._

 _If Dad says that the Darkness is good now, then I believe him._

 _It's probably just a trick._

 _Dad brought the archangels back!_

 ** _Dad's back?_**

 _Didn't you know? That's why you're coming home, right?_

 _...Gabriel?_ I recognized the voice that was hesitantly brushing up against me immediately. How could I not, when it was in one of the first memories returned to me? I retreated from the conversation immediately. A sense of alarm flared from the other Archangel as I immediately tried to attempt tuning out, _Gabriel, wait! Please!_

I opened my eyes, only realizing after blocking angel radio back out that I had shut them. Cassie was holding to my vessel's shoulders, concern in his eyes.

"You... you blocked it back out?"

"Dad's back in Heaven," I said, not able to tell him why I blocked it. My Grace seemed a bit darker, again, and I must not be imagining it because Castiel glanced at my Grace with confusion, "Castiel. Dad's back in Heaven?"

Castiel turned his eyes away from my darkened Grace, his delight at the news a sharp contrast for the dark emotions making me want to reach for my Archangel sword, "yes, Gabriel! Dad, Lucifer, Michael, Raphael, even Amara."

My brother beamed at me, the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face.

"We're going to all be a family again, Gabriel."

* * *

Fortunately, I managed to get out of the lecture, mostly because as soon as he was free from his own lecture, Apollo practically dragged me out of the Bunker in a rush of excitement. Next thing I knew, I was several thousand feet up in the air in a gleaming golden sleigh pulled by horses brighter than Apollo's brightest smile. It didn't help that I was still a little dizzy from angel radio.

And let me tell you, heights are a lot scarier when you can't fly.

"Lokes, calm down," Apollo beamed down at me, a smile that somehow wasn't as bright as this damn sleigh, "you love heights!"

"Back when I had wings!" I screeched, clinging to him, "you don't even have seat belts in this thing! And it isn't a chariot or a car! It's a fucking sleigh! I married freaking Santa Claus!"

"Horses, not reindeer," Apollo pointed out, "my sister has deer. Besides, the whole Santa Claus thing is your jig."

"What!?" I decided not to dwell on this information, "what's so important that you had to drag me a thousand feet up into the sky for!? Jeez, somebody's going to zap us out of the air like Zeus did to that Helios kid!"

"Nobody's going to zap us out of the sky," Apollo's grin grew, that bastard, "we're going to see Hephaestus. He completed that project he was working on for me."

"Uh-huh," I closed my eyes, "yeah, okay, great. When do we get back on the ground?"

"Trust me, Lokes, after we pick it up, you won't be able to wait until we're back in the air again."

"I highly doubt it."

* * *

Hephaestus, of course, had his workshop inside of a volcano. Kind of super villainy if you ask me.

Was it cool to have only a (what looked like) glass ceiling and glass walls as a barrier between us and the lava? Yes, yes it was. Also terrifying. 10/10 wouldn't want to spend my free time here. Would the lava kill me if it got in? No, probably not. It didn't help that the last time I was in a mountain, the damn thing fell on me.

No, the only thing that made this whole trip worthwhile was the contraption that Hephaestus greeted us with.

Or, to be more exact...

The six, golden, metal wings.


	38. Chapter 38

(I don't own Supernatural. If you don't remember Gabriel and Apollo heading to see Hephaestus or Gabriel being able to use angel radio, you probably missed a chapter. This is chapter 38. Jeez, only (about) two chapters left, I'm kind of sad. I am planning a sequel, though, so don't get too sad (you all stare at me dry-eyed with glares of annoyance) ah-hah, um, let's get on with the story shall we? Not like anyone really reads these notes anyways.)

"What do you think?"

It took me a couple minutes before I tore my eyes away from the wings and realized Apollo was talking to me. A knowing smile played on his lips, his eyes bright, pride radiating from him like how he radiates heat, "what do you think, Lokes?"

"They're..." I stared at the wings, "they're wings."

"Yes."

"For me?"

"For you."

"You can touch them," Hephaestus assured me, "they won't bite."

I glanced at him, taking in his short stature and the braces on his legs (one leg seemed to be a tad shorter than the other and the cane he had on one arm to help make up for it made a clicking sound every time it hit the ground) before I stepped forward and ran the tips of my fingers across one of the bronze feathers. They were intricately detailed, almost soft to the touch, and the amount of detail put into them was shocking.

"You made these?"

"I was glad to have a challenge for once," Hephaestus nodded, moving around his workshop surprisingly quickly. It seemed that he was already working on something else, but my attention quickly returned to the wings.

"How do they work?" I didn't even look away from them when I asked the question, still mesmerized by the golden wings.

Hephaestus' cane clicked against the ground as he hobbled over, the cane shrinking into a snug bracelet to keep out of the way as he reached forward, "Apollo has already informed me of your circumstances. It shouldn't be difficult for you to slip some Grace inside of it when I put it here. I am not an expert on Grace, seeing as my supplies of it are nonexistent, but Apollo has been glad to be of help to me."

He picked the whole contraption up and gestured for me to turn around, "you should be able to make them tangible or intangible, for the goal was to make them as much like your actual wings would have been as we could."

I quickly took off my shirt so he could get the contraption on me. There was a long strip that protected my spine (ha, let's see anybody try and activate the 'off switch' now!) and several parts that went around my waist and chest, all seemingly melding together in the front instead of a latch or some other thing to keep them attached.

"Go ahead and slip some Grace in, now," Hephaestus told me.

The wings all were in the right place, settled over the scars where my actual wings used to be. I was surprised at the weight, since it felt almost exact to what my wings had felt like.

Hephaestus must have noticed my expression of amazement because he grinned, his teeth stained black from centuries of working in his workshops, "I may have snuck into the throne room and taken notes on the originals when Poseidon was out. Now go on and try em out!"

It was surprisingly easy to fill the hollowed out insides of the wings with Grace.

A grin broke out on the pagan's face, "well, that part works. Can you still see them?"

"Yes," I said, in awe as they reacted like any one of my limbs. I stretched them out, giving an experimental flap and almost knocking everything over, "can't you?"

"Not anymore," Hephaestus said cheerfully, proud of his work, "try making them visible."

I pulled them closer, running a hand along one and nearly falling over when I felt it, "they... they have feeling in them!"

"A technique I mastered ages ago," Hephaestus said, not sounding surprised, "but can you make them visible?"

I tried, surprised when, instead of an uncomfortable warmth, bright blue lines lit up along the primaries in extravagant patterns, "can you see them?"

"Yes, the blue should be from your Grace," Hephaestus nodded, pleased at his success, "can you move them?"

I stretched them out a little.

"Good. Flap."

I flapped them, nearly taking the short Greek out. Apollo ducked in time, but Hephaestus almost didn't duck quick enough.

"Wonderful!" the blacksmith pagan didn't even seem fazed over the idea that I had almost accidentally hit him with his own invention, "now, try defending yourself."

I acted reactively when he picked up the nearest tool (a hammer) and whipped it at me. I covered myself with my wings, but instead of pain the tool harmlessly bounced off. I moved my arms away from my face, lowered my wings, and stared at my new wings in wonder. The outside of them had melted into a single shield-like surface, but now that the threat had passed, reformed back into its original metal-feathered form. With only a bit of concentration, I could make them shift between defense form and normal form. Excited, I tried something else, amazed when it worked. The wings did, indeed, have an attack form, the edges of the feathers becoming sharper than the edge of my sword like small daggers.

"Well, looks like you figured that part out for yourself," Hephaestus nodded with approval, "not so much for attack as to deter others from trying to attack your wings. They try and grab on and bam! No more hand!"

"These are amazing!" a grin took over my face and I watched in amazement as they went back to normal mode.

"Crash resistant too," Hephaestus assured me, "made out of the best celestial gold I have in stock."

"Right," Apollo said, straightening a little and reaching into his back pocket as he leaned over and whispered to Hephaestus so quietly my ears didn't pick it up.

"I'm a bit deaf in the ears, speak up," Hephaestus advised.

Apollo's face flushed and I pretended to be distracted by my new wings, "half the herd was it?"

"Hm," Hephaestus grunted, the blacksmith pagan sparing a glance my way, "I'll have half of the original half I would have been given and make sure none of my favorite demigod children are taken down by medical issues, though not all my demigod children, just the ones I like. No loopholes. I'll even throw in some coupons and gift cards."

"Make all your good little demigods practically immortal?" Apollo paused, thinking it over, "but half of half my herd instead of half... as well as some coupons and gift cards... alright, Hephaestus, you drive a hard bargain, but it is a better one than half my herd. May I ask what brought upon the discount?"

"Your fiancé didn't sleep with my wife when she tried to make a move on him," Hephaestus frowned, "that's good enough for me."

* * *

"Look! Look!" I did a flip over the horses, diving down before swooping right back up to fly alongside Apollo's sleigh, "watch this!"

I flipped onto my back, grinning as my wings swiveled on their own to accommodate, "Apollo! Look! Backstroke! I couldn't even do this with my actual wings!"

"Told you that you would be excited to get back in the air," Apollo grinned in my direction.

I laughed and flipped upright, my wings swiveling again to accommodate the usual direction, "this is the best surprise ever!"

"I hoped you would like it," Apollo glanced up at me as I landed on the back of his seat, perched Spider-Man style with my wings pulled in to keep me from being ripped back by the wind rushing past as the sun sleigh flew through the sky.

"Like it? I love it! And check this out!" I said, staying perched on the back of his seat even as the wings compacted and slid intangibly into a compartment on the back of the mechanism I wore, "Hephaestus says the compartment they go into, the one for when I need to get through small spaces or need to hide them from other angels, is bigger on the inside! I have my own TARDIS!"

"So it goes through time?" he smirked.

I let out a laugh before I responded, snapping my wings back out, "I can do that part all by myself!"

With that said, I leaped off the back of his seat, letting out a loud whoop as I sent myself back into the air.

I was already pretty high up and I flapped my wings in the way needed to send me higher. I could fly all the way back to Heaven, right into the plane where it was, I knew I could and I knew they would all welcome me back with open arms.

I chickened out before I could even start to get through to the plane needed. I didn't even need memories to get me back; it was instinctual, an instinctual pull that all of my siblings had, as did I, but I refused it and dived back down to fly alongside Apollo once more.

It was hard to hear over the wind unless we yelled, but we didn't need to say much anyways, flying alongside each other in comfortable silence until the horses became red as the sun sleigh began to set.

* * *

They were all curled up on a couch having movie night when we returned to the Bunker. I had yet to let my wings go back to being invisible to all but demons and angels, since it wasn't uncomfortable to have these metal wings visible, and so I held my wings up to show them off with more pride than a peacock shows his tail.

"Where've you two been?" Cassandra glanced over, pausing at the sight of my new wings, but it was Sera who spoke up about them first.

"What's with the new bling?"

"Apollo drove the sun chariot-" -chariot sounded a lot cooler than sleigh, (shush, Apollo, it's a sleigh and you can't convince me otherwise)- "-and I flew beside him!"

The very second the words 'I flew beside him' were out of my mouth, the Winchesters and Castiel turned their attention away from the tv to look at me. I had to remind myself not to give a knowing smirk at how close my brother and his Hunter were next to each other on the couch.

"You have... wings," Castiel said, inching his Grace forward to investigate. Once it was clear to him I wasn't going to be mad, he moved his Grace forward along my wings. I shook my wings a little at the odd yet nice feeling.

"Well, of course he does," Cassandra said, worry left over from earlier from wondering if there was something wrong with my wings left her and she seemed to relax a little in her spot on the couch, "where do your actual wings go?"

"Those old things?" I said with half a mind to mouth filter, "oh, check this out!"

I wrapped the right three in front of me, grinning as I made those three go into defense mode while simultaneously sending the left three into attack mode, "they've got a defense mode and an offense defense mode!"

I let them go back to normal before pulling them in against my back, "aren't they awesome?"

"They're... great," Sam said, though with a bit of fake enthusiasm so that I wouldn't feel bad that he wasn't as excited about them as I was, though I could sense that he was impressed. They all were impressed with my new wings.

"Where did you get them?" Dean was the first mortal to stand up and come check them out, examining the work before reaching out and feeling one of the metal feathers.

I had to stop myself from accidentally whacking him out of surprise. He gave me an odd look when the wing shifted under his touch and I gave him a sheepish grin, "sorry, I wasn't expecting you to just reach out and touch the wings. It kind of tickles."

"Wait," Dean's curiosity swelled, "you can feel things with them?"

"Yep!"

"How?"

"Well, not too sure. They're powered by my Grace though," I said, moving them to show off the fancy blue patterns, "when I make them visible, my Grace moves into these glass parts as well."

"This is your Grace right here?" Dean ran his hand along one of the blue lines and I reactively jerked the wing away, "well, under the glass. Is that glass?"

"Not sure," I shrugged, "but-"

Sera's phone went off suddenly, an annoying little jingle that instantly grated on my nerves. Her face lit up, but I didn't see how such an annoying sound could be a good thing.

"What's with the alarm?" Dean turned his attention off my wings, as did everyone else, and I allowed the blue lines to fade back to gold as I allowed them to lose visibility.

"I've got a date!" Sera declared proudly, switching off the so called 'alarm' and getting up off the couch.

"You've got a date?" I frowned, "how did you get a date?"

Sera walked over to me just to punch me in the arm, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I rubbed my arm, even though her punch hadn't hurt me, "but when were you able to get a date?"

"You know, just because you're not around doesn't mean we don't do anything, Gabe," Sera told me, "Cassandra and I went out and got groceries today."

"She means Dean wanted to cook burgers but had forgotten to buy hamburger meat last time we were shopping," Cassandra clarified, shooting a knowing look at Dean and Castiel, "I guess he must have been too focused on other things."

Dean didn't catch on to what she was implying, focusing instead on getting the top off of the bottle of alcohol he had, "yeah, it kind of slipped my mind. My mom finally got back in contact with us."

"Mary Winchester?" Cassandra said, getting up off the couch, "your mother? I thought..."

"Long story," Sam clarified before looking to his brother, "I told you that mom just needed time."

"So who's the date with?" Dean asked, raising his drink to his lips.

"A British guy," Sera beamed, "I met him at Walmart."

"You both reached for the same package of hamburger meat at the same time," Cassandra rolled her eyes sarcastically, "it must be destiny."

"So what's the guy's name?" I asked, "or did you just catch the accent and swooned right into first datesville?"

"I have never been to First Datesville," my brother said seriously.

"His name is Mick Davies," Sera said with a small smile, "I think he's absolutely adorkable."

I was about to tease her for saying 'adorable' but before I could, Dean took a spit take; Apollo just barely avoided being drenched while Sam was staring at Sera like she was about to burst into flames.

"Awesome," Dean said sarcastically, "could... could you repeat that?"

"His name is Mick Davies?"

"That's what I was afraid you had said."

Sera frowned, "what's wrong with Mick Davies?"

"Mick is the one running the connection between the American Hunters and the British Men of Letters," Sam answered her, "does he know you're a Hunter?"

"No," Sera glanced down at her phone before shoving it in her pocket, "do you think he does?"

"Depends," Dean took a sip of his drink and Apollo eyed him warily, as if the Winchester might just try and do a spit take on him again, "did he use his little recruitment speech?"

"Not that I can remember," Sera said.

"Then he probably doesn't," Dean said.

"Perhaps we should keep it that way," Sam nodded, taking the chance to change the channel while everyone was distracted.

"Don't think I didn't see that, Sammy!" Dean was not one to let a simple distraction allow him to not notice his brother changing the channel. Maybe it was some sort of sibling sense, allowing them to sense the very second that their sibling changes the channel.

"Nobody's even watching it!" the younger Winchester complained.

"I'm watching it!"

"No, you're not!"

"Apollo and I can come make sure everything goes smoothly," I offered, turning my attention away from the arguing Winchesters and onto Sera, "you can just say it's a double date. Or we could just so happen to be there too, at a distant but close enough table."

Apollo grabbed my hand, running his thumb in circled across the back of my hand, "I'm up for it. What do you think, Sera?"

"Guess it sounds good," Sera grinned.

"I was hoping maybe we could go visit Heaven," Castiel spoke up, and for once it looked like this wasn't just an attempt to keep Apollo at arm's length, "everybody's been asking about you. And... I thought maybe Father will be able to take the lock off your memories. And you'll be able to fly there, now."

Apollo's grip tightened on my hand and I felt fear and dread curl around him, "Heaven isn't going anywhere. One more day?"

"It... it wouldn't hurt to go... home," the idea felt weird on my tongue, "and I would like to have more than bad memories to remember."

"Please," Apollo's voice sounded shaky, "just one more day before you go?"

"I'm not leaving forever, Sunchild," I grinned, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, "and I'm not staying there."

"Apollo can probably come too, if he wants," Cas said, "nobody would try anything, with him being your.. mate and all."

"See?" I grinned up at the taller pagan, "you can come, too!"

Apollo's voice was hesitant, "I don't..." -I gave him my best puppy eyes and he gave a shaky sigh of relief- "okay... I'll come with you."

"Yay!" I cheered, turning my grin on my brother, the only thing my mind able to focus on was how easily I'll be able to reach my Father, how easy it will be to stab him with my sword and watch the life leave his eyes; my Grace seemed to grow darker for a moment before it brightened, "when do we leave?"


	39. Chapter 39

(I don't own Supernatural. If you don't remember Gabriel using his new wings you may have missed last chapter. This is the last chapter before the epilogue, and to be honest that makes me a little sad. Don't get too sad, for I am planning a sequel.)

Our wings beat the air, carrying us higher and higher into the sky. Every now and then, Apollo shifted in my arms; my beloved pagan was in the form of a cat, golden and fluffy and large, so possibly a Maine coon. I had expected him to be happy at the chance to see Heaven, but Apollo held only dread and foreboding in his little cat heart.

My brother was happily leading the way: he hurried ahead, quickly turned and darted back to fly beside me, then darting ahead to repeat the whole process again.

"Everybody's come home," Castiel said the fiftieth time he fell back beside me, "it's like a... what do the humans call it? Like a reunion! A big, family reunion!"

And then he was flying ahead again; I had never seen my brother so happy, and it made me happy, too. Then I remembered the whole reason I wanted to come, and my happiness dissipated. As if sensing my turmoil, Apollo began to purr despite his own sadness. I couldn't hear him over the wind, but I could feel his little body vibrating from purring so loudly, a comforting rumble against my chest. Or, I figured as I remembered that cats purr when scared as well as when happy, maybe he was trying to make himself feel better and figured making me feel better as well was a pleasant side effect.

The purring stopped a while later and I glanced down to make sure he was okay; his eyes were glowing gold again, but after a couple minutes they faded back to normal. He blinked slowly at me, the cat version of a kiss, before resuming his purring. I turned my attention back to flying.

"I like cats," Castiel said, falling back beside me again, "Dean doesn't, he's allergic."

"Allergic to cats?"

"Yes," Cassie said, and then he was flying ahead again. He was back soon though, staring at Apollo thoughtfully, "can I hold him?"

"Um," I glanced down at Apollo, but he seemed too busy licking his paw and running it over his ears to notice we were talking about him, "okay, but he careful."

Apollo let out a startled yelp when I handed him over; maybe it was the shock of being handed to somebody, who you knew didn't have you as their favorite person, while thousands of feet up in the air. Castiel didn't seem to notice that Apollo had dug his little claws in the second my brother had him pressed against his chest.

"He's very fluffy," Cassie said, glancing at the cat-turned-pagan who was staring at me with wide, betrayed eyes, "I like him better this way. He's not as annoying."

Apollo's dread was replaced with irritation, and he seemed a bit indignant as he arched his neck and started grooming the base of his neck. I couldn't understand why it would be so important to his cat mind to be so focused on grooming while so high up, but perhaps it served some sort of important purpose.

"We're almost there," Cassie announced, handing Apollo back to me, "here. I'll go first."

I watched him fly forward, fading as he crossed over.

"Ready?" I looked down at Apollo, who simply sneezed. I grinned and my grin only grew when he gave me a look of annoyance when I told him his cat form was cute.

I flew forward, passing over easily. A shiver went through Apollo when we passed over, but he seemed no worse for wear.

I was in a corridor, and I glanced behind me, surprised to see that there was only wall behind me.

"They've opened the Garden," Castiel said with a smile as he grabbed my hand, "come on!"

"Hold on, Cassie," I said, stopping my brother from dragging me down the hall. It felt wrong for some reason, being here, even though a part of me was glad to be here.

I put Apollo on the ground and he shifted back into his usual human form quickly. He brushed himself off and hopped up onto his feet, giving me a look of hurt, though I could tell from his emotions that he wasn't actually hurt, "I'm not cute."

"Adorkable," I quoted Sera.

"No," he said, ruffling my hair much to my annoyance, "you're the cute one. Because you're so small."

"I'll have you know," I said, waving his hand away and pleased that my hair always fixes itself, "that my true size is much larger than you could ever even comprehend."

Castiel tugged on my hand.

"Okay, I'm coming," I promised him, though my metal wings reacted to my fear, pressing against my back as I tried to make myself look smaller, "well, maybe we should come some other day. My wings-"

"Your wings are fine, Gabriel," my brother promised me, spreading his own wings a little as if hoping to reassure me with the state of his own, "most of the angels got their wings wrecked during the fall, anyways. That's why a lot of us can't really fly. Father fixed them, so maybe he can get you your real wings."

"I like my new wings," I said, "couldn't I just keep these ones?"

"I.. guess," Castiel said, giving me an odd look, "are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," I said, following him. His mood instant,y brightened and he proudly led the way down the long hallway.

There were doors on both sides, with names in neat little plaques above each door. My gaze fell across a familiar name from my days as Jarvis and I almost stopped in front of it. Cassie did not stop, pulling me right on past George's door.

When we stepped through a doorway into a huge garden, I was sure my heart skipped a beat, or at least forgot how to beat for a minute.

It was beautiful: fountains, ponds, trees and plants of all species, some of which I was sure were extinct. Birds sang and chattered from the branches, while animals of all sorts wandered around without a care in the world. We had barely even been there for a second when Apollo was practically swarmed with crows, all of which vying for a perch on him, while a couple wolves of all different sorts wandered over to sniff his hands.

He seemed occupied and happy, and I sensed no malice here, so I let him be with his animal buddies and followed my brother deeper into the garden, which appeared to have no end.

There were no man made bridges over the ponds, swamps and lakes; instead, the roots of some of the trees had formed into bridges for crossing. I caught a glimpse of a water lapping at what looked like a beach while we were crossing, and a couple of the people (no, angels, I could sense their Grace) playing in the sand glanced over and waved.

"This is the first time in forever that we are able to relax and not have to be doing anything," Cassie told me as we reached the other side of the root bridge, "the Garden has been closed off since Lucifer fell."

I glanced down at the water below before I left the root bridge; a huge crocodile looking creature bigger than a barn watched me go with only a bit of interest. It paid no mind to the various deer and whatnot that lapped at the water, nor did it seem to care about all the fish swimming around it.

"Does the Garden have every animal? That ever lived?" I asked, almost falling over when a humongous creature even larger than the crocodile thing rose out of the water. It sniffed me, nearly knocking me over, and I stared at the spinosaurous in shock.

"We have mosquitoes, but they're only here for the bats to eat," Cassie told me, "we do not have ocean sunfish. Those are useless. We just let them keep being reborn as more Ocean Sunfish."

"What do you have against ocean sunfish?"

Castiel did not answer, instead heading off so quickly I had to speedwalk to keep up.

"Where are all the-"

We passed through a bunch of bushes into a clearing and my curiosity over the whereabouts of everyone else died in my throat

Castiel gave me a knowing smile, "nobody wanted to overwhelm everyone coming home, like you and Lucifer and some of the angels, so we're all in vessels."

Hundreds of Grace strands swirled around mine in greeting as we entered the clearing. Hundreds of angels, all in vessels, lounged around on the soft grass. Castiel had already ditched his shoes on the outskirt of the clearing and I did the same, following my brother. The angels were everywhere, all of them pausing in their preening of each others' wings to turn their eyes on Castiel and I.

They were silent, the combined curiosity from all of them at the sight of my metal wings nearly knocking me over.

"Gabriel?" one asked, finally, when their staring received no answer from me; their vessel was middle aged, with greying red hair that sharply contrasted the angel's bright yellow feathers. Their Grace curled around mine, trying to place it to make sure it was me.

My voice had died in my throat, but at the question, I curled my Grace around theirs in return, "yes. I am Gabriel."

"Your wings look... odd," the angel with yellow feathers told me. I dared to glimpse into angel radio and discovered that Yellow Feathers was already announcing my arrival and confirming my identity. The rest of the angels chattered excitedly, and a couple more curled their Grace around mine in greeting. It was nice, like I had rejoined something bigger, and I allowed myself to curl my Grace around theirs in return.

I glanced over my shoulder at my wings, spreading them out a little, "yes, they are very unique."

"Where have you been?"

"Here and there," I said, moving onwards deeper into the crowd of angels. They seemed about as confidant as I was in what to say, what to do. They watched me go, all looking torn between wanting to say something to me and not knowing what they should say. Some were just shocked at seeing an Archangel. Or maybe it was my metal wings.

When we had first entered, a lot of them had shot withering glares in Castiel's direction. After anger rippled along my Grace at their actions, they had quickly ceased the dirty looks, and gratitude radiated off of Cas to me. He followed close behind as I made my way through the crowd, both of us trying not to step on wings or bodies. All the angels lounging around preening each other or just appreciating their time in the Garden all made me imagine somebody had dumped a bunch of cats on some warm rocks in the sun and the cats were all laying around enjoying it.

Wasn't too far off a description, but the grass did feel nice on my feet.

Those that weren't preening another's wings or getting preened had their wings spread out, laying on their back or their stomachs, just letting the sun soak into their feathers. Some had their wings spread out and had other angels preening the wings anyways.

And I felt an odd sense of victory over the fact that the warmth of the sun was something I could get any time just by getting in Apollo's personal bubble.

Seriously, hug the guy and bam! Cold can't bother me anymore (well, at least not as long as I'm hugging him). My thoughts drifted as I reached the outskirts of the center of the huge clearing.

They were there. Smack dab in the center, having more of a lions on downtime feel to them than the angel's lounging cats. The Archangels.

The angels had given them a wide berth, with the closest angels eyeing the archangels every now and then with a sense of wariness, so it was less cluttered in the center, and they had no trouble picking me out, what with me being one of the few beings standing instead of sitting or laying down. In an instant, they seemed less like a relaxed couple of lions and more like a couple of lions who had just spotted something of interest. I shrunk under their focus, pulling my wings in closer and trying to look smaller.

The first archangel to move was Lucifer (who was now in a new vessel), sitting up with his huge black wings pulled in, the bottom pair held out a little to appear harmless while he eased his Grace forward to welcome me, "we were wondering if you would ever show, Gabriel."

Beside him, a man I've never seen before sat up from where he'd been enjoying the sun as well. His six huge wings were the purest white I had ever seen, and they shimmered a little when he moved them thanks to the gold color that tipped the end of his feathers. I remembered those wings. I remembered the sting from when the owner of those wings had slapped me, and I took a step back.

"Father is still working on bringing back Raphael," Lucifer informed me as I cautiously took a hesitant step forward, eased on by his beckoning Grace, "but he got Michael out of the cage and fixed him. He even fixed up my old vessel and made it able to hold me. See?"

He spread his arms as if to prove his vessel's durability.

I paused only about halfway to them, glancing back as I realized Castiel wasn't following. Guess it seemed like this was an Archangel only designated zone. My heart hammered in my chest, a painful reminder that maybe I shouldn't be in the Archangel designated zone either, and for the first time since getting them my metal wings felt a little too heavy.

"Gabriel?" Michael seemed hesitant to speak, as if not trusting his own voice. His Grace was just as hesitant, but I still shrank away from it, taking a couple quick steps backwards. Michael's white wings drooped.

"Come on, Gabriel, we don't bite," Lucifer teased, giving me a wide smile.

I spared one last glance in Castiel's direction before slowly moving forward. To be honest, I was terrified, though I wasn't completely sure why. Something pulled at the back of my mind and I paused.

"Come on," my big brother beckoned, "just a little further. You're almost here."

I gave my wings a nervous flap before slowly moving forward, prepared to fly away at the slightest hint of danger. These wings were good enough for me to do a take off from the ground, I was certain of it.

Michael reached his Grace forward again, even slower this time. I didn't shrink away when it reached me, and I walked forward a little bit more, freezing a little when I was in grabbing distance. Neither lunged for me, so I slowly moved forward, wings trembling.

Luci sat back down, and I sat down between him and Michael. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Luci seemed chill at the moment, but Michael was staring at me like I might disappear at any moment.

"There, see? You're fine," Luci told me, "just like I said."

"Gabriel?" Michael asked again, inching toward me slowly. He held his wings in a nonthreatening manner, reaching toward me carefully. When I didn't move, he reached out and grasped onto my shoulders, as if needing to prove to himself that I was real. He frowned, face just as serious and stern as I remembered.

There was a raspy hitch to his breath and then he was moving forward, pulling me into a crushing hug. His wings wrapped around me, warm and familiar, and I felt my fear melt away as he sobbed into my shoulder. He didn't seem so scary anymore.

...

 **"What is that?"**

 **"I call it a platypus," I said, watching my little creature happily splash around in the little pond I had put it in in the Garden, "Father let me make something."**

 **Michael gave the creature a distasteful look, "it's... illogical."**

 **"The boy ones have poisonous barbs on their feet to stab things with," I told my big brother proudly, reaching into the water to pick up the little platypus to show him, "see? And they have beaver tails! And little duck beaks! Don't you like him?"**

 **Michael stared at the little creature as it squirmed in my grip, "you made it venomous?"**

 **"And it's a mammal!" I beamed proudly, "and the girl ones lay eggs!"**

 **"Eggs? Gabriel, the mammals that Father made do not lay eggs."**

 **"Well, mine does," I said, my grin falling, "Lucifer didn't like him either. He said we don't need a platypus."**

 **Michael stared at the platypus before giving a small sigh, "well... maybe it... well, it is a little bit cute, I suppose."**

 **"Really?"**

 **Michael nodded, "besides, Lucifer is probably just angry that you made something better than the flop that was his Ocean Sunfish."**

 **I grinned and my platypus made an odd squeaking sound as I hugged it to my chest, "I didn't want anybody picking on him, so I made him so venomous that it could even kill- _OW_!" **

**I dropped it, tears welling in all my eyes at the pain. I swiveled all my heads to stare at the platypus as it quickly hurried back into the water; my Grace pooled in the wound on my arm from where it's spike had gotten me.**

 **Michael's wings flared and he grabbed my arm, yanking it towards him to see it better. He waved his hand over it, Grace flaring, but his hand was shaking too much for his healing to be useful; he frowned at me, face immediately serious. I was still only a couple years old, so when I sensed his panic I started to cry, because his fear was making me scared too.**

 **"Could even kill what?" Michael asked me, struggling to heal the wound, but his fear made his hand shaky. His voice rose, stern and angry-sounding, scaring me more, "venomous enough to kill what, Gabriel!?"**

 **"A-A A el- enough to kill an elephant!" I wailed.**

 **Michael seemed to collapse from relief, his fear mostly dissipating. He managed to get the shakiness out of his hand and healed the wound from the platypus. His face was still serious, but it softened a little when he felt my fear through the Archangel bond, "hey, it's okay. You're okay."**

 **I kept sobbing.**

 **Michael sighed and crouched down to my level. He pulled me towards him, hugging me, and wrapped his great wings around me; my wings weren't very big yet, but I tried my best to do the same. My arms didn't reach all the way around him, but my golden wings managed it.**

 **"I'm sorry, Gabriel," Michael told me, "you scared me, but I didn't mean to scare you back."**

 **"I... I scared you?" I sniffed, ceasing my sobs into his shoulder. I thought the only thing able to scare my big brother was the Darkness, or maybe Father when he suggests we all sing karaoke.**

 **"Yes," my big brother admitted, hugging me tighter, "I thought you were dying. I got scared."**

 **"You know how you can make up for it?" I asked him, having noticed that right behind my brother was Father's latest creation.**

 **"How?" Michael asked me, tensing a little at the familiar hint of mischief in my voice.**

 **"With a snow fight!" I lunged, scooping up a handful of the white (and cold, I quickly realized) 'snow' and smashing the little ball I had created from the snow onto my brother's main head, pleased when a couple pieces flew off and hit some of his other ones when the snowball crumpled.**

 **Michael let out a shrill yelp, his lion head shaking furiously in an attempt to get the snow out of its mane while his eagle head shook back and forth to get snow out of its feathers. All of his heads turned towards me (a notable accomplishment, seeing as archangels rarely focused all their eyes on a single thing or direction) and narrowed their eyes.**

 **I let out a chorus of cheerful cries from my multiple heads, leaping away from my big brother. Problem was, Michael's wings were still wrapped around me from hugging me, and I ran face first into a wall of white/gold feathers.**

 **Michael picked me up and stood up; I turned all my heads to look at him.**

 **And then he dumped me in the pile of snow.**

 **I came up shivering and giggling, little wings flapping as I struggled to right myself.**

 **Michael let out a huff of laughter, sitting down next to me as I played around in the snow. My platypus wandered out of the water to investigate, quickly scurrying away when some of the snow I was playing with almost landed on it. Michael scooped it up before it could escape back into the water, but he held it in a way that kept it from stabbing him with its foot spike.**

 **For a second I was worried he might try to eat the platypus, for his carnivorous heads seemed to be eyeing it up a little.**

 **Finally he scrunched up some of his noses at the creature and put it down, watching it hurry back into the water with a look of annoyance.**

 **"I'm gonna put him everywhere!" I told Michael with a grin, "on all the continents!"**

 **Michael turned a couple heads towards me, "how about... how about we just put them on Australia and see how they do?"**

 **"And then we can put them everywhere?"**

 **"We'll see what Father has to say about it."**

 **"You always listen to Father!"**

 **Michael's focus stayed unwaveringly on me for a moment before his main head gave me a toothy grin and he plucked me out of the snow, "Father knows what's best for us, Gabriel. He always knows what we should do."**

 **"All the time?" I asked, trying to grab onto one of his wings.** **His wolf head let out an amused grumbling growl, but his wings stayed just out of reach as he walked back towards where Lucifer and Raphael were.**

 **"All the time," Michael promised, "do you forgive me for scaring you, Gabriel?"**

 **I let out a laugh from my main head, "I'll always forgive you, silly! I love you, Michael!"**

 **My brother gave me a smile from his main head, "I love you, too, Gabriel... now what do you say we introduce Lucifer and Raphael to this so called snow?"**

 **...**.

I felt a bit dizzy when I came out of the memory, my arm stinging a little with phantom pain from the platypus; even with the scared bit, it was much better than the memories I've been getting back. I was confused at what had triggered the memory, but when I curled my Grace around Michael's in an attempt to comfort my sobbing older brother, I didn't see the angry archangel who had slapped me when an argument had pushed him to snapping; I saw my big brother, Michael.

An Archangel who loved his siblings, and acted angry when he was scared; the Archangel who wasn't sure what to do when his belief, that Father knew best and would tell us what to do when we need direction, failed him.

He'd been the one to kick Lucifer out. To shove him into the Cage.

Had I never stopped to wonder what that felt like for him?

I still didn't agree with what he had done; I still believed that I had been right in my argument.

But I couldn't bring it in me to be scared of him anymore. Not when he had been scared enough for the both of us.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel, I am so so sorry. I was just so scared..."

I wrapped my arms around Michael, moving my wings forward and trying my best to hug him back.

I forgot, for a moment, the true reason I had even come here.

For a moment, I was just happy to be home.

To be a family again.

* * *

"Hey."

I cracked one eye open at the intrusion.

Apollo wobbled a little before regaining his balance, struggling not to fall over. I was amazed that he had gotten all the way to the center and all the way to me, despite the fact that my older brothers had all their wings so spread out that I didn't even see any good place to put your feet to get over here, not to mention that I had my wings spread out as well.

"Hey," I said.

"Sorry to interrupt your little angel suntime but...want to go... explore the Garden?"

"The Garden is huge," I yawned, closing my eyes and rolling over.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"And everyone is all over here anyways."

"Exactly."

I turned my head back towards him, opening both of my eyes this time, "rather smooth, Sunchild."

"I try to be."

"Haven't had a lot of practice?"

"Not very much, no. Used to be great."

"The smoothest of the smooth?" I grinned, closing my eyes.

"The smoothiest."

"If you two dorks don't shut up, I'm going to puke. And trust me, that will be a mood killer."

Apollo and I both silenced, not having realized anyone was awake.

"Hey, Lucifer," Apollo finally said after an awkward moment of silence.

Luci rolled over, staring at the two of us before rolling back over, his dark wings shifting, "hey."

"Um.. this is Apollo."

"Uh-huh."

"My, uh, fiancé."

Lucifer rolled back over to stare at us, "fiancé?"

"Yes."

"Fiancé."

"Hi," Apollo waved, "I'm, uh, right here... Mr... Satan, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir.. or Mr. Satan," Lucifer said after a moment, "Lucifer's fine."

"Right, um, I figured being.. uh, the devil in Christian mythology, you might prefer a more former title."

"You're mythology, we're prime."

"Right, um, despite many who would disagree, like, for example, some of my followers-"

Lucifer stared at him.

"Right, prime, okay, I'm cool with that," Apollo shrugged, "it all... it all gets confusing anyways, I mean..." -he moved his hands around meaninglessly for a moment before gesturing to me- "uh, Loki has a giant squirrel? My grandfather ate my aunts and uncles? Very confusing."

'Why is it suddenly my squirrel? I don't want him."

"Well, you're Norse-"

"Doesn't mean he's my squirrel!"

"Who are you?"

"Look, now you woke up Michael," I frowned up at Apollo.

"You were yelling," Apollo waggled his eyebrows, "but you could be yelling something else-"

"Ooookay," Lucifer said, sitting up, "how about I just stop you there-"

"What would he be yelling?" Michael frowned, sitting up as well.

"I've got some ideas," Apollo smirked at me.

"We're surrounded by my siblings," I said, hiding myself behind one of my metal wings, "could you reconnect with your smoothness later?"

Apollo lifted my wing up, peering down at me with a smug grin on his face as he winked, "you be the bird, I be the bee, we could teach them something."

"Bee?" one of the angels started awake.

"I like bees," another spoke up, "guys, they have bees!"

"Like bees? I love bees!"

"I love bees more!"

"I like birds," one said, "are they pretty birds?"

"Oh, very pretty birds," Apollo said loud enough for the nearest angels to hear, "and very pretty bees."

"Okay, enough of that," Lucifer hissed at us before speaking up, "everybody calm down! They don't have bees or birds!"

A collective groan of disappointment rose from them all.

"We have birds and bees somewhere in the Garden," Michael said, not too sure what we were talking about since he'd woken up mid-conversation, "a lot of different species."

I groaned and moved my wing back in front of my (now very red) face, "you couldn't have let me sun my wings in peace?"

"Sun being the key word," Apollo shrugged, laying down on his back beside me, "I got lonely."

"Go make some angel friends."

Apollo grinned, rolling onto his side to face me and pressing a quick kiss to my lips that he didn't give me time to make longer, "you're the only angel I need."

"Again," Michael said, that 'no nonsense' tone of his back in place, "who is this?"

"Our baby brother has a fiancé," Lucifer said, sounding the opposite of excited, "a pagan.. what's the point of those and why, exactly, would you want one?"

"I don't know, Luci," I said, moving my wing for the sole purpose of allowing my big brother to see my glare, "nobody saw the point in Ocean Sunfish, but you still had to have those, didn't you?"

It was amusing seeing him splutter and try to find a comeback. He looked like a dying fish, mouth gaping and closing.

"My pagan is very warm and useful," I added, wrapping my arms around my beloved space heater, "unlike your Sunfish."

"A fiancé?" Michael ruffled his wings a little, annoyance clear on his face, "who said you could have a fiancé?"

I felt my Grace darken almost before I actually saw it turn a couple shades darker. I would have reached for my sword, but Apollo shifted and cradled my arms that I had wrapped around him and I couldn't reach for it, "oh, I'm sorry, Michael. You're absolutely right. I should have made sure to check with you when I made the decision; would that have come with a buy one get one free brainwashing?"

I almost felt a little bad for saying that. Almost.

Michael looked as I had slapped him. Instead of replying, his wings drooped.

My Grace lightened again back to its usual brightness and then I did feel bad.

"Something tells me that just because Father is back," Michael paused, looking lost for a moment before continuing, "just because we are all back home... nothing will be as it once was."

"Or fixed with a snap of the fingers?" Lucifer added.

Michael nodded, "exactly. There's... there's a lot of things we have to make up for. Mistakes we have made. I mean, I didn't have much choice but to keep the angels in line. We were losing so many as they went to join Lucifer, and I didn't want to lose any more."

"You could have been nicer," I frowned, "you didn't have to treat them like soldiers."

"You remember the arguments," Michael said, trying to comfort me by wrapping his Grace around mine.

"I remember only one," I said.

Michael slowly retracted his Grace from mine, correctly assuming that maybe I didn't want comforted by him, "...oh. The.. the one where.."

"Yes. The one I ran away after."

Lucifer looked between Michael and I, curling his Grace round both of us, "am I missing something?"

"No," I said, "you're not missing anything. Can we go back to pretending we're a functional family?"

"Not as dysfunctional as mine," Apollo said, "you should be proud of yourselves."

"Nobody is as dysfunctional as your family," I huffed, sitting up.

"I will admit, maybe that's the teensiest bit my fault."

My wings flared, nearly taking out both Michael and Lucifer. To be fair, they both did the same and Apollo had to duck to avoid getting whacked in the face.

The man before us didn't seem like much, though he seemed to glow. A dark skinned man with six, dark wings stood beside him. The archangel moved his Grace forward towards me hesitantly, as if I might disappear.

"I... don't remember making that," the man said, turning his eyes towards Apollo, who looked away as if afraid he'd be exploded if he maintained eye contact.

"Um, pagan," Apollo said, an odd dark feeling that I couldn't quite place radiating off of him, "I'm a pagan."

"Oh," the man nodded, "well that explains it. You things just pop right up like tulpas. People just keep coming up with things. Why, the other day, I ran into this spaghetti thing-"

"Apollo's not a thing," I frowned. If they're all just going to act like Castiel did at first about the subject-

"Apparently he's Gabriel's thing," Michael spoke up.

"Gabriel?" the man turned his eyes towards me, looking over me at my metal wings, "I don't remember bringing you back. Not yet. Oh, right, my sister brought you back, didn't she? She'll be here soon."

"Maybe we should go," Apollo said, dark feeling turning to dread, "we can come back another time, right?"

"Why do you care?" I frowned at the man, "who are you anyways?"

"Oh," he looked down at himself, "you might want your pagan friend to cover his eyes."

Once Apollo had his eyes closed, the man let his vessel fade. I stared at the bright divine form before me with confusion, a strong feeling that I should know him.

And then his vessel was back in place, his arms spread in a ta-da motion.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" I frowned.

He let out an exasperated sigh, "I thought that would work. I'm Chuck. The Lord? Your Dad?"

My Grace darkened, but I just stared at him shocked. Now that I was right in front of him, and now that I saw that it was possible for us all to be a family again, I couldn't figure out why I had planned on killing him. That would keep us from being a family.

He reached his hand forward, "I'm surprised your little pagan hasn't already taken that lock on your memories off. It's surprisingly simple-"

"Wait-" Apollo pulled on my arm, trying to move me away from my Father, "don't unlock it-"

At the same time, Amara had appeared and I froze in terror. When she saw my Father reaching towards me, her eyes widened in horror, "wait, no-!"

My Father pressed his fingers to my forehead and I felt the shift. Thousands of memories poured into my mind, good and bad, all so much I almost felt like I was drowning under it all. And then everything fell into place.

And I knew exactly how great of a mistake had just been made.

My Grace went pitch black.

And then everything else did too.

...

 **There was a gasp from beside me, and the fear that flooded over me from the pagan beside me would have overwhelmed me if I hadn't taught myself to keep the emotions of others separate from my own.**

 **I opened my eyes, glancing at the younger pagan beside me. His hands clenched the grass below him in white-knuckled fists and he was paler than I had ever seen him be; his eyes were already fading from the glowing gold that signaled that he was looking into the future. Apollo had always been better at prophecy than me since the death of Python which granted it to him, and he was quickly surpassing me when I began to help him hone his ability.**

 **"Time?"**

 **"Um," he evened out his breathing quickly, gaze staring at me as if I might burst into flame... or maybe burst him into flame, "future... I think."**

 **I smirked, "well, I would be surprised if it wasn't."**

 **He frowned, some of the color beginning to return to his cheeks, "I'm not sure. There were a lot of trees around us, but we were in a clearing. There were a lot of people around us..."**

 **"Us?" I asked, surprised, "did you recognize the people? Were they pagans?"**

 **"Your eyes..." Apollo's eyes took on a distant look, his body trembling with horror, "your eyes were pitch black, like a thick smoke."**

 **I froze, "demon?"**

 **"No," Apollo answered quickly, shaking his head, "I have never been as certain of anything as I am certain that you were not a demon... but something was off. It was like the smoke was trailing out of your eyes... and you were facing a man, and I was afraid of that man, afraid of the people all around. Afraid of you. Afraid for you."**

 **I frowned, a small pang of pain in my chest at the idea of Apollo being afraid of me. I shoved it away, confused as to why I opposed such a thing as Apollo being afraid of me.**

 **"You pulled out a sword, and I reached around you, grabbed your hand and..." his eyes shone with unshed tears of fear.**

 **"Go on," I urged, "just tell me."**

 **"I pulled towards me. I killed you," Apollo turned his gaze to me, "but I don't want to kill you; I have to save the man in front of you, whoever he is. Not now. I could feel that I didn't want to kill you then either."**

 **I thought this over, closing my eyes and trying to find this future. It must have been too far ahead in the timeline for my abilities.**

 **"Well," I said after about an hour of silent thought, "nothing is set in stone. Future telling is like a fast paced river. If you swim strong enough, you can go back. If you try hard enough, have enough power to do so, you can change its course. Sometimes there are parts that cannot be changed, sometimes there are."**

 **Apollo pulled at the grass beneath him, as if wondering if he tried hard enough he might be able to take us back to when we were quietly sitting on the hill with no worries over the future, "then I'll change it. I won't stop until I find out how."**

 **"No," I shook my head, "Apollo, don't even risk it. You'll be lucky to manage to get the upper hand and manage to kill me... or whatever or whoever you saw. Don't risk it by trying to change it."**

 **...**

I opened my eyes.

Apollo stood in front of me, smiling. He was happy.

"It worked," he said, hand cradling my cheek as if I was the most important thing to ever exist, "I spent every night for the last two centuries just.. just trying to find a way to make it work."

I blinked, dizzy from the onslaught of suddenly regaining millions of millions of years worth of memories.

Apollo grinned, and I was confused, since it seemed like the corner of his mouth was gleaming with gold. My hands and hands felt warm; the front of my shirt was warm and seemed like it was pressing in on me.

I looked up, past Apollo. My Father stared at me, eyes wide and horrified, and I couldn't seem to understand why. My eyes shifted from him to the woman that stood beside him, her arms outstretched. A shifting ball of darkness hovered between her hands, and my chest seemed to required oxygen as I recognized my aunt.

Apollo's eyes drifted closed and he slumped against me. I stumbled as I moved to keep us both from falling, hand pressing against his back for further support. It felt like the back of his shirt had gotten wet and I looked down, mind not catching up as I stared at the gold covering my hand. The gold seemed to spread from his back as if a golden stream had changed course and begun to empty out from Apollo's back.

Apollo had gone limp and I lowered us both slowly to the ground, trying not to hurt him further. I looked around, trying to find who had killed him, but everybody was spotless and staring in horror, mostly aimed towards Amara as if she might actually kill us all.

The front of my shirt was soaked with golden ichor, as was the front of his. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, trying to force my Grace to heal the wound. It swirled around the wound, but did nothing to help stop the bleeding.

Something was clenched in one of my hands.

I looked down at my sword, gold covering it up to the hilt.

I had been facing my Father.

I looked up at Amara, trying and failing at keeping the devastation from my face. I remembered what she had done to me and she knew it.

"Apollo?" I looked down at Apollo's still face and reached forward, picking him up a little and hoisting him into my lip, hugging him to my chest. His heart beat weakly as ichor flooded out of him, and his chest was so still I would have thought he was dead if I couldn't feel his heart beating under my hand. He was already growing cold, even before death took him, "Sunchild?"

His heart was slowing down. It stopped.

"You were supposed to kill me, you idiot," I said; I hated that my face was growing wet from silent tears. I steeled my features and pulled in my Grace, bundling it up within my vessel like a coiled spring. It burned at my vessel's throat to the point where I felt like I was going to choke.

" _ **GABRIEL, STOP,**_ " my Father was the first to realize what I was doing, and his tone held a sharp warning within it. If I had been completely archangel, his tone would have forced me to obey him, forced me to stop. If I was completely archangel, I probably wouldn't even be able to pull this off. No archangel could.

But maybe, with the strength of an archangel behind it, maybe a pagan could.

I pressed my mouth to Apollo's and let go of my Grace. Unbounded after being kept so small within my vessel, I burst forward, forcing my way into Apollo's body. My Grace burned as it took a vessel without permission; it felt like I had been doused with holy oil that had just been lit. I turned all my power towards healing him from the inside. The wound healed over.

The burning spread in intensity, and I could feel it in every part of my Grace. I had felt this burning before.

I left Apollo's body, returning to my vessel, but I knew the damage had already been done.

Apollo drew in a ragged breath as I drew my last.

(One more chapter to go! I might end up writing a sequel. In case it was confusing, Amara had a bit of her Darkness put into Gabe so that when the lock was taken off it would take control and make him kill Chuck.)


	40. Chapter 40

(I don't own Supernatural. And here we are, finishing my longest story written so far, and on my birthday to boot. But, I've gotta admit, all of you readers are more of a gift than I could ever get. Especially my favorite reviewer who stuck with me till the end (three cheers for Hectatess), and everybody else who read and/or reviewed The Lost Archangel.)

Everything was bright.

Nothing burned. Well, at least I wasn't burning anymore. But I had been.

I had died. Again.

I opened my eyes, squinting at the brightness of my surroundings. Something shifted, and it got dark enough for my eyes to adjust without pain. Dappled light swayed back and forth softly around me, and I glance up to see it filtering through golden feathers. I moved, and the feathers did too.

I stretched the wing slowly, spreading it out before pulling it in, then repeating the process again. I sat up, six golden wings pooling around me.

My surroundings had dimmed, and I found myself in a familiar alley. I was pleased to have all my memories intact, as well as my Grace.

I stood up, stretching out my wings and staring at them in a sort of disbelief as the wind ruffled my feathers. It was a nice feeling. I was concerned to find my actual wings not looking as cool as my metal wings, but it was nice to have real feathers again.

I stumbled out of the alley, glad that my clothes were in tact this time as well, and stumbled out onto a familiar street. I peeked into angel radio, but they noticed me all the same. Happiness flooded through the connection, and it was clear what they were all thinking.

 _Welcome back, Gabriel._

I smiled, tipping out of it and glancing around. It was an odd idea that for the past two years I had... I hadn't had all my memories where they were supposed to be. Now that I had them all, it was a foreign idea that I had ever lost them at all.

I checked my pocket, but found no money. Not to be deterred, I snapped my fingers, summoning up some spare change and a sucker that I stuck in my mouth; it was nice to be able to do that again. What else did I need?

I snapped again, and a phonebox appeared at the end of the sidewalk, scaring a nearby cat. Oops.

I took my time walking towards it, waving at a couple pedestrians. With a simple flourish of my arms and a smile on my face, they simply clapped and walked on. Amazing what mortals will disregard as magic tricks. Amazing what mortals can pull off as magic tricks too, now that I think about it.

I walked into the phone booth I had conjured up and took the phone off the hook; after shoving in the quarters, my hand hovered over the number pad before I started punching in the number I wanted.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sunchild," my grin grew, "didja miss me?"

"Lokes?" I could almost hear his smile, "looks like neither of us can stay dead."

"Daddy-O brought me back," I said, "the Maples with you?"

"Winchesters too," Apollo laughed, "you've been dead for a week or two. Could have at least warned me before killing yourself to save me, though, Lokes. It was my plan to die saving you."

"Well, sorry to disappoint."

Apollo laughed again, "not at all. Might want to get down here, Lokes. That guy Sera's dating, Mick Davies? Turned on his group, and for a good reason; if I hadn't followed him, he would have a bullet in the back of his skull by now. Things are heating up between the American Hunters and the British Men of Letters. You and Cas are the only ones willing to get out of Heaven and help everybody out down here. What do you say?"

"Seems like a fun build up to the wedding," I said, "which Artemis will probably want to go to, by the way. Father, did I ever mention how much I dislike your sister? How could I have forgotten how much I don't like her?"

"Just wait until you have Hera as a stepmother-in-law," Apollo sighed, "you poor, poor thing."

I made a gagging noise, "or Zeus as a father-in-law? Do you think my Father would be willing to walk me down the aisle? Yours is a bit too dead to walk you."

"Cassandra is intent on being there, too, you know."

"Hmmm, maybe I should try seeing about shoving her and my Father together," I joked, "then she could be my actual mom."

Apollo paused on the other end before letting out a sharp laugh, "Cassandra says one little angel kid is enough for her. Sera says to get your angel ass over here."

I laughed, "well, looks like I'm being summoned then."

I heard a voice that sounded like Dean's shouting something about 'since when are you pagans all little teenage girls?' and then the line went dead, which made me laugh harder.

I put the phone back and snapped, making the phone box disappear.

I looked up, about to snap and teleport to the Bunker, when I saw something that made me pause. It was a bar, little run down, but as familiar as the day I left it.

A bar called Bottoms Up.

"Doing pretty good for a homeless Butler, aren't I, Walter?" I asked a demon who was no longer alive to answer, "little Jarvis Stark wasn't so little after all, huh?"

There was no answer, of course.

I grinned and snapped my fingers. I had a family now, after all, after all these years of being alone.

And that family was waiting for me.


End file.
